


Absent (Dean x Daughter!Reader) 18+

by neganslucilletblr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dark fic, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father/Daughter Incest, Fingering, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Coercion, Smut, Uncle-Niece Relationship, Uncle/Niece Incest, age gap, blowjob, handjob, inappropriate relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganslucilletblr/pseuds/neganslucilletblr
Summary: Y/N’s father loves her - maybe too much given how sheltered she is - but he's always absent. He's either busy with work or busy entertaining women. Y/N thinks she's finally found a way to get him to notice her, and with a little help from Uncle Sam, she finally gets some quality time with Daddy. But for how long can she keep his attention?
Relationships: Benny Lafitte x you, Benny Lafitte/You, Benny Lafitte/reader, Dean Winchester x daughter!reader, Dean x You, Dean/Daughter!reader, Dean/You, Dean/reader, Reader/Other, Sam x You, Sam/Niece!Reader, Sam/Reader, You x Other, dean / you
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, disappointment, talk of isolation, naive!reader, innocent!reader, mentions of sex, voyeurism, p in v, blowjob
> 
> Chapter WC: 1727
> 
> A/Ns: I feel disgusting. This is gonna be amazing.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

You smile, “thanks, Uncle Sam. Where’s Daddy?” You look over to his seat at the large dining table, seeing it’s empty and the servers haven’t even set up his place. This disappointment sits thick in your stomach, because you know exactly what that means, but you don’t want it to be true - not today. 

“Caught up, kid, I’m sorry.” You look back at your uncle and nod your head, defeated. The confirmation that your father is missing your birthday only makes you feel like calling the whole day off. Your favourite breakfast is placed in front of you - probably Uncle Sam’s doing - and he smiles at you to confirm your suspicions. “Pancakes with chocolate sauce and strawberries, with whipped cream… still your favourite, right?” he checks. You nod.

“Yeah, thanks.” You offer him a weak smile and pick up your fork, poking at the food for a bit. 

“Plus,” Sam speaks up again, watching you carefully, “your Dad has got all of your presents waiting for you in the front room, said you can open them all without him. And if there’s anything else you want, I’m under strict instructions to get it for you.” You know you should feel grateful, but you just feel disappointed. 

“Can you get my Dad?” you ask him. Sam offers you a sympathetic smile. 

“What’s wrong with your Uncle Sammy?” he smirks. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is a big birthday, and your Dad would be here if he could - but work is busy right now.” You look down to your plate, and Sam continues. “You know he loves you more than anything else, right? And he works so hard to give you everything you want.” You nod in agreement. You know he does it all for you, you know you’re his entire world, because he tells you that you are - but all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be around, to actually spend time with you. Instead, he just splashes his cash from afar. 

“I know, you’re right. I’m sorry,” you sigh. 

The room falls quiet as you play with your food with your fork and Sam eats his own breakfast. 

“So, eighteen…” Sam prompts. “Finally an adult.” 

You nod, “don’t feel like it,” you confess. 

“I’m in my late thirties and I still don’t feel like an adult,” Sam chuckles. You smile, genuinely this time, and decide to eat a strawberry. 

“There’s just so much I’ve never done, or experienced,” you sigh. “You know, most people my age are going to prom, and thinking about college and going to house parties with their friends and…” You reach for anything else ridiculous that teenagers are supposed to enjoy doing, “kissing and stuff-” Your cheeks flame in embarrassment at the very thought. “At least, they do in all the movies.”

“Well, movies aren’t real, you know that,” Sam defends. “And you also know your Dad would be worried sick if you went to any kind of party,” he scoffs. 

“I don’t even have friends,” you complain. “Not unless you count Sandy.” Sandy was your Nanny, but now you were older she was more like your assistant. Nowadays she's around less and less, and she's good at making herself blend into the background when she is present. Dean and Sam had her doing other things now, like cleaning and organising. “I’ve never even been to a real school and I’m about to graduate.” Sam sighs and places down his knife and fork, linking his fingers together in his lap. 

“You know how much I fought with your Dad about that. I’m sorry kid, these things happen. Our line of work is…  _ messy  _ and you’re safer here, where we can both look out for you.” You nod your understanding. 

“Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter. I was kinda hoping we could have a movie day today?” You blush. You had always loved movies, especially when they were about people your age - seeing how different their lives were to yours. You’ve been homeschooled your whole life, sheltered from everything, and some movies confused you, because you had never experienced anything that they had. Schools seemed wonderful and daunting all at once, and you often wondered what kind of ‘clique’ you’d be in if you went to one. Would you have had a boyfriend? One of those jocks that is secretly a soft guy that takes you on romantic dates? You could only imagine your father’s face if you ever brought a guy home. You wondered why everyone always drank alcohol in red plastic cups, and constantly obsessed over sex. The most you’d learned about sex was that it made babies - and you didn’t want any of those any time soon so it seemed a little pointless for highschoolers to be doing it.

“A movie day, huh?” Sam prompts, nodding his head. “Whatever you want, Princess, this is your day. But first, presents.”

-

The rest of your birthday had been fine. It took you a while to open all of your gifts. Your father had bought you a lot of jewellery, diamonds and white gold mainly, along with some new clothes and purses, all designer, and all no doubt chosen by anyone  _ but _ him, because there is no way he knows a single thing about women’s fashion. You assume, like with all your gifts you receive from him, he’s given someone his credit card and told them to buy you things you’ll like. Trouble is, very few people besides Sandy and your uncle know you at all. Still, you appreciate the sentiment, anyway. The last gift had been in an envelope, and in your father’s writing you read that he was planning to take you to Paris, but couldn’t tell you when yet. You’d already resigned yourself to the fact that it wasn’t happening any time soon, and he’d no doubt eventually send you over there with Sandy, or Uncle Sam if you were lucky. 

Uncle Sam had got you an engraved locket with the family crest on it, and the number eighteen etched into the back. He'd spent the whole day trying to make it special for you, doing whatever you wanted, which meant you’d spent most of it in the theatre under a blanket and cuddled into Sam’s side as you watched all of your favourite films, with an endless supply of warm popcorn and all the candy and chocolate you could ask for. You did have a great time, but you couldn’t help thinking about how much better it would’ve been if your father was there to share it with you too. 

But Sam had told you at breakfast the next morning that Dean was on his way back, and would hopefully be home in time to see you before bed, so you’d been spending the day wishing time away, and just  _ hoping  _ you’d get to see him. You were struggling to stay awake by midnight, laying on your bed in silence, listening intently for your father’s voice to carry down the halls, or just any kind of sound to suggest he had finally come home, when you must've drifted off. 

It only feels like you’d blinked when you open your eyes again and turn your head, seeing it’s almost two a.m. You sit upright immediately, feeling a little disorientated, and then you remember that your Dad’s  _ bound  _ to be home by now. Maybe he’ll let you sleep in with him like you did sometimes when you were younger. You leave your room and walk down the hallway, heading towards his bedroom door. You can see the light is on, and you hear movement, so you excitedly step inside, walking down the hallway and you’re about to turn the corner to where his bed is, only to stop dead in your tracks instead. You can hear moaning and gasping, and your Dad’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Shit, baby, just like that.” The sound of his voice is comforting, and you peer around the corner to see that he’s with some blonde girl. She doesn’t look that much older than you. They’re both naked. She’s on her hands and knees at the edge of the bed, your father standing behind her, fistful of blonde locks lifting her head off the bed, and he’s thrusting into her. 

“Fuck Dean, feels good,” she whimpers. You turn back, wondering if you’re meant to even be seeing this. They’re having sex, that much you’ve figured out, even though it’s never looked like  _ that  _ in the movies. You look back at them again, being careful to stay hidden, because you’re curious to know just how  _ different  _ it is in real life. But why is your father having sex with her, anyway? You’ve never even met her, so he can’t be dating her or anything. And as far as you’re aware, he doesn’t want any more kids - you were hardly planned, he’s always called you a happy accident - so you’re not sure  _ why  _ he’s having sex with her. But as you watch, listening to the way they’re both moaning, and seeing the pleasure on their faces, you realise that they must be doing it  _ for fun.  _ Sex must feel  _ good,  _ and be for more than just making babies as you’d always been taught. 

You couldn’t help but feel jealous. He’d come home, and already he was spending his time with some other girl. Why hadn’t he come into your room and woken you up? Why hadn’t he wanted to see you instead of her? What if you weren’t enough for him? What if he’s only interested in girls that will do these kinds of things with him? You feel uncomfortable between your legs, like there’s a wetness there, and you squirm and grab at yourself through your pants to try and get comfortable, but it only makes it worse, so you pull your hand away and sigh. You take one last look at your father and his blonde friend as she spins and drops to her knees, and then she’s putting him  _ in her mouth.  _ And he likes it, apparently, because he’s moaning loudly and gripping her hair again and smirking down at her. 

You force yourself to look away and head back towards the door, closing it softly behind you. Your whole body feels like it’s tingling, your heart racing oh so fast. And you can’t stop thinking about what you’ve just seen. You head back towards your bedroom slowly, biting your bottom lip, deep in thought. Do you need to be one of those girls? To get him to spend time with you? Because if that’s what it takes, you’re willing to do  _ anything.  _


	2. For Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, innocent!reader, naive!reader, voyeurism, fem masturbation, the talk (but a pervy version hahaha), inappropriate behaviour, mentions of foreplay, inappropriate touching, mild uncle/neice incest, mentions of father/daughter incest, orgasms 
> 
> Chapter WC: 2943

It’s rare for your father to be home for longer than a few days at a time, but this week he is. You wonder if he feels bad for missing your birthday, and thinks that being at home makes up for it - except it doesn’t, not really, because even though he’s home he’s either locked in his office, or he’s out and about in the area. You don’t know much about your father’s work, but you do know that his property investments around the country are just a front for what he really does. You’re not naive enough to not know that what your father does isn’t exactly  _ legal.  _ Men with guns often wander around your home, which is something you’ve grown up with, and you know the amount of money that he has can’t just be earned from some apartment complexes dotted around America. There are rooms in the house you’ve always been forbidden to go in, there are secrets he’s always kept. Sometimes conversations would come to an abrupt stop if you entered the room, and on more than one occasion, police had been at your door. But luckily, your father or Uncle Sam had never been arrested.

You know that your uncle is the main reason for that. He’s a very smart man, trained in law, and often seems like the one keeping everything, your father included, held down and ticking over the way it should. You’ve often heard your father and uncle argue over the years, usually about something business related. Apparently, your father isn’t quite so level headed - likes to act on impulse, likes to act first and ask questions later. Uncle Sam seems to ground him a lot. But neither of them had ever been very open with you about  _ what  _ they do beyond property investment. You’d heard a lot of talk of shipments and distribution over the years, but you’ve never known  _ what  _ they ship or distribute. And business isn’t the only thing your father likes to keep you in the dark about. Besides your father and uncle, everyone you know - anyone that’s close to you - is one of their employees. You’ve never had any friends - never had the chance to make any - because you barely left your home. 

You know that it’s to keep you safe, you know that going out in public at all is risky, because your father has enemies, and any one of them could try to use you against him. He’d always told you that you and Sam were his only weak spots, except Sam can look after himself - you can’t. You sometimes wonder how bad they must be to have so many people who hate them, who might want to hurt you to get to them. But you can’t ever imagine either man being anything but loving and sweet and fair. You can only assume you saw a completely different side to them than most people. Dean and Sam are your entire family and always have been. Your mother left when you were young, but Dean doesn't like to talk about it or her, so you don't know that much, and your Grandfather, John, had died not long after your Mom left, so you were too young to really remember either of them. 

  
  


Despite still hardly ever seeing your father, it is always a comfort to know he’s home and that if you really needed him, you only had to go looking around the house, rather than him being in another state, or sometimes even another country. You would at least see him at meal times occasionally, or you’d hear his voice from his office, or echoing down a hall as he spoke to someone on his phone. It’s always nice knowing he’s around. But things had been awkward since the night you saw him in his bedroom with the blonde girl. You’d not seen her since, but every time you saw your father, you’d remember what you’d seen him doing, and your face would grow hot, your skin tingling. You had so many questions, but you didn’t want him to know you’d been spying on him. You assumed it wasn’t something you should’ve been witnessing. So instead, you’d started doing something worse. You’d started to do it more. Started to watch him when he wasn’t looking. You’d see from the top of the stairs that he was walking through the door with some girl, and then you’d wait a little while, before sneaking into his room to watch them have sex.

You just wanted to understand what it’s like, you wanted to learn more about it - at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself every time you snuck in there. If he isn’t working, he seems to be with a girl of some sorts, and how you’d never realised that before, you don’t know, but the jealousy is just as strong every time. If anything, it’s getting worse. How can he give so much of his time and attention to these girls, but not you?

It’s by chance that you happen to see him leading some pretty brunette into his office as you’re heading towards your bedroom for the evening, and you glance around the halls to make sure they’re empty, before you tiptoe over to his office door and press your ear to it. It takes a few minutes for anything to happen, but once you hear your father gasping and moaning, you brave opening the door just ajar. You know from the layout of the room that he probably won’t notice anything, his office couch is around a corner and it sounds like that’s where the noise is coming from. You peer into the room and see him sitting back, head tipped back on the couch, the brunette girl with her head in his lap, and he’s groaning and fisting at her hair. 

You bite your bottom lip and feel that tingling sensation returning between your legs, and you quietly undo the button on your jeans so you can push your hand inside. On the occasions you’d tried to stop your body from responding this way, you’d quickly learned that touching yourself felt good, and so you’d started doing it more and more. You swirl your fingers around and try to not make any of the noises that your father and his company are making, and watch intently as she rises to her feet, lifts her dress and climbs onto his lap. She reaches between them and then lowers herself, and Dean grips her hips and moans loudly. 

“What a tight little pussy, baby,” he grunts. And you want to hear him say that to  _ you.  _ You want all the attention she’s getting. You need it - crave it. 

You feel a large hand grip your shoulder and gasp - luckily, your father and his friend are too loud to hear it over their own voices - and when you turn around you see Uncle Sam towering over you. He holds a finger to his mouth, telling you to be quiet, and his eyes scan over your body, so you quickly pull your hand out of your jeans. Your cheeks burn now that you’ve been caught, and he glances beyond the door to his brother for a brief moment before dragging you away from the room. He closes the door silently behind the two of you and grips your arm again, pulling you away from the office. He doesn’t say a word, and you’re too scared to say anything either, so it’s silent as he leads you towards his own office. Your jeans are still unbuttoned - you’re painfully aware of that fact because they feel like they might fall down - and Sam quickly opens the door to his office and shoves you inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Uncle Sammy I-” 

“It’s rude to spy on people, Y/N,” Sam cuts you off.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down at your feet. 

“Your Dad won’t want you seeing that.” 

“I was just… I was curious,” you confess. Sam sighs, licking his lips.

“Sit down, Y/N,” he tells you softly, referencing to his couch. You take a seat where he’s told you to, and watch as he sits next to you. 

“You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? You can ask me anything,” he prompts. You nod your head and bite your bottom lip. Sam reaches out and places a hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth. Given your arousal from watching your father, the attention sends a spark of electricity up your leg. His hand is so big wrapping around your thigh like that. 

“They were having sex, right?” you check. 

“Yeah,” Sam confirms, frowning slightly. 

“So, when Dad has sex with all those girls, does he want to get them pregnant or…” you trail off, not knowing what else to suggest, and Sam takes a deep breath.

“He’s doing it for fun,” Sam explains slowly, “because it feels good.” 

“So sex isn’t just for making babies?” you confirm your suspicions. 

“No… Y/N, I thought you knew all this, you’re eighteen.” You only feel your cheeks heat up more as you look down at your lap and watch his fingers flex just a little more around your thigh. 

“Well, my tutor always told me that sex was for making babies, you know the whole sperm and egg and pregnancy thing. But that was it. I’ve seen stuff in movies, but you’ve always told me movies aren’t real. So I don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders, and Sam sighs heavily again and nods slowly.

“Okay, guess this is overdue.” He frowns slightly for a moment and then takes a deep breath. “Sex does make babies, but it’s also something that we do because it feels good and we enjoy it.”

“Is that why when I touch myself down there it feels good?” you ask. Sam’s cheeks flush pink and his eyes widen, as his grip on your thigh tightens for a second. “Is that what sex feels like?” 

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know for sure because you’re a girl. But  _ touching yourself  _ does feel good like sex does.”

“Is it… bad to touch yourself?” you check, a little embarrassed.

“What? No, it’s completely natural, sweetheart,” he reassures you. This confirmation gives you a surge of confidence, and the embarrassment starts to melt away.

“Is it bad that I want someone else to touch me?” you ask next, biting your bottom lip. Sam’s mouth opens and no sound comes out for a second, before he finally replies.

“No, angel, it’s not.” His eyes fix onto yours, and you continue to chew your bottom lip, feeling the heat of his hand on your thigh, and if he just moved it closer, just a little higher up... 

“What about Daddy? Or you?” you whisper. Sam’s fingers are digging in almost painfully now, but you don’t mind. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles under his breath. 

“I want to learn more, I want you to teach me,” you tell him sweetly, reaching for his hand and pulling it closer to your centre. He’s told you this isn’t bad, so why is he hesitating? 

Sam’s hand rubs over the front of your jeans, and there’s a hint of friction against your sweet spot, but the material is too thick for it to feel as good as normal. Sam pulls back and rises to his feet, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

“What’s wrong? You said it wasn’t bad, right?” you check urgently. 

“No, it’s not that… I mean, fuck,” Sam sighs. He bites his lip when he looks back at you. 

“I keep thinking about being one of those girls for Daddy, doing those things with him, and it makes me feel good,” you admit. “I want him to spend time with me like he does those girls.” 

“You want to be one of those girls?” Sam checks. You nod and smile softly at him. He scoffs, “you’ve got a lot to learn if you wanna be like them, sweetheart.” 

“Will you teach me?” you ask, hopeful. Sam seems to hesitate so you give him your best puppy dog eyes and add, “please Uncle Sammy? I’m a big girl now, I wanna be treated like one.”

“Okay, what do you want to know?” Sam asks, sitting back down beside you. 

“Everything.” 

Sam laughs slightly at your reply. “Do you know what a handjob is?” You shake your head. “Blowjob?” he presses, frowning slightly. You shake your head again. “Right, well, there’s making out, which you know about from movies,” he starts and you nod. “That’s first base, then there’s second base, that’s touching each other. So a girl would touch the guy’s urm… dick, and the guy would touch the girl’s pussy.” 

“Just touch it?” you press. 

“Well, rub it and stuff,” Sam explains awkwardly. "You give a guy a handjob and you'd finger a girl." 

“Okay,” you nod your understanding. 

“Third base is using your mouth. So a girl would put the dick in her mouth and lick and suck it, that's called a blowjob.”

“I saw Daddy’s friend doing that.”

“Right, and then the guy would lick the girl’s pussy, that's called eating her out.” 

“Does it feel good?” you ask, squirming at the very thought. You’d never considered using your mouth on someone, or someone else using  _ their  _ mouth on  _ you.  _

“Yeah, this all feels really good,” Sam confirms. 

“Okay, so what else is there?” Sam stops for a second and bites his bottom lip.

“So there are different positions, and different things you can do whilst you’re having sex.”

“Like what?” you pry.

“That’s a very big question.” You stop and think about everything Sam’s just told you, and it slowly starts to dawn on you how strange it is, and just how much you never knew. It’s like a whole new world has opened up. “I tell you what, I think that’s enough for one night,” Sam tells you after a moment. “It’s getting late so you should go to bed, and if you have any more questions, then come and find me tomorrow, okay?” Sam asks. 

You nod your head and stand up with him. He walks you over to the door, your mind starting to spin the more the information sinks into your brain.

“Oh and sweetheart?” Sam prompts. “Don’t tell your Dad about this. He might’ve wanted to tell you himself.” You nod your understanding.

“Night, Uncle Sam,” you smile softly. “Thanks for your help.” You reach up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and leave his office, heading towards the stairs so you can go to bed. You think about what Sam’s told you the whole way up, and on your way you bump into your father.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s late,” he notes, smiling warmly at you.

“Hey Daddy,” you smile, “not seen you today,” you lie. 

He cups the side of your face and his thumb brushes along your cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, Daddy got caught up a lot,” he smiles softly. You nod, biting your bottom lip, because you want to tell him that you can be one of those girls if he’ll let you, but then you remember everything your uncle just told you and realise you’re not ready yet - and you don’t want to fuck it up. 

“It’s okay, maybe we can spend time together tomorrow?” you ask. He smiles widely at you and nods his head.

“I’d love that,” he agrees. “Get some sleep, Princess.” He scans your face and his thumb tugs on your bottom lip slightly, before he leans in and kisses your cheek. 

“Okay, Daddy, night. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby girl.” 

You reluctantly step out of his hold and head into your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You can still feel his kiss buzzing against your cheek as you sigh and make your way over to your bed, stripping down to your underwear and climbing onto it. You lay flat on your back in the middle of it, staring up at the ceiling as you try to remember everything Sam told you. You think about first base - about if your Dad had kissed you on the lips instead, his tongue slipping into your mouth. It would no doubt feel  _ so good.  _ And then there’s second base. Rubbing each other, just like Uncle Sam had done through your jeans, how you’d hoped that he’d put his hand inside and touch you properly, feel how wet your pussy became whenever you touched yourself - how wet your pussy is getting now just thinking about it. Then there’s third base, and you remember the brunette with her face in your father’s lap that evening, and all the other girls who had had his cock in their mouths too, the way it makes him moan and curse. You want to hear him do that because of you. 

You find your hand slipping between your legs of its own accord, and you’re shocked to find your panties soaking wet. You whimper as you rub around your clit and then slip your hand inside your panties to rub at your skin. You imagine it’s Sam or your Dad and close your eyes, biting your bottom lip and arching your back. You no longer feel ashamed of yourself for touching like this, and the feeling only gets better and better and better, until it’s so good you feel you might burst and you’re worried that you should stop, but something isn’t letting you. You couldn’t pull your hand away, even if you wanted to. Then it’s like something snaps inside you, and this intense feeling of pleasure washes over your entire body, and you can’t help but scream out, sounding just like those girls your Daddy spends time with. Your whole body is shaking, chest heaving, as you come down from your high. If that’s what sex feels like, you can’t wait to do it. 


	3. The Waitress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, fem masturbation, flirting, teasing, jealous!reader, uncomfortable!Dean, awkward!Dean, pissed!Dean, groping, mild father/daughter incest, mentions of arousal
> 
> Chapter WC: 2622

You’ve decided that if movies and shows are  _ kinda  _ real, then you want to watch more that had stuff to do with sex in them - the kind your father would grumble at you for watching. You'd remembered watching  _ True Blood  _ before, and your father made you turn it off because you were too young for it. But that was a few years ago, and you’re an adult now, so you can watch what you want. You’d bought the box sets online, and it’s already a little after midday, but you’re still in bed watching episode after episode. The lead character, Sookie, is human, but the guy that she has a crush on is a vampire, and apparently her brother, Jason, has already had sex with half of the town. He’s with a different girl every episode - reminding you of all the different girls your father likes to bring home. And then you think about your uncle, and how you’ve never seen him with a girl before, but sometimes he would stay away for the night, and until recently you’d assumed it was for business, but now you’re starting to get a grasp on this whole sex thing, you’re wondering if it’s because of that instead. 

  
  


Whilst the storyline of the show wasn’t bad, you were finding yourself skipping through, looking for the sex scenes. They’re the closest you’ve ever seen to sex, besides the times when you watched your father. You’ve never seen something so graphic, the characters are almost always completely naked, and it’s always so passionate. So much moaning and panting and skin. You've found yourself squirming, putting your hand between your legs to try to sate the growing need you felt there. Ever since you’d made yourself feel  _ really good,  _ you’d wanted to do it constantly. You make a mental note to ask Uncle Sam about that, if there’s a limit to how much you can do it, and what that really good feeling is. If it feels  _ that good  _ it can’t be bad, right? Though there is an ache growing in your core, and where you’ve constantly been touching yourself throbs. You pull your hand away begrudgingly, and when a knock sounds at your bedroom door you pause the show, just as Jessica and Jason are mid sex scene. 

You make sure your panties are fixed into place as you get out of bed, and notice it’s a little tender to walk. You open the door and instantly smile when you see your father. 

“Hey, Daddy,” you beam. His green eyes wander over your body as you stand there in your underwear, and he swallows thickly. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he clears his throat, still scanning your body. He stammers on words for a second. 

“Everything okay?” you check. He finally looks at your face and nods. 

“Yeah, I’ve just… not seen you like this since you’ve started becoming an adult. You're urm… you’re growing up.” Dean blushes and you giggle. “What are you watching?” he questions, frowning at your television screen behind you. You bite your lip and giggle.

“Just a show about vampires.” Dean’s eyebrows raise and then he looks at you. 

“I don’t think you should be watching that,” he scolds. 

“C’mon Daddy, I’m a big girl now, finally an adult,” you remind him. “I know what sex is.” Dean looks back at you and clears his throat yet again, sighing and nodding his head like he’s admitting defeat.

“You’ll always be my baby girl,” he argues, and shuffles on his feet. “I was coming to see if you want to go shopping? I’ve got a few hours free this afternoon, thought we could spend some time together?”

You smile wide at the very idea and nod your head enthusiastically.

“Sounds amazing, let me get dressed.” As you close the door to get ready, you can hear your Dad’s heavy sigh on the other side, and wonder what that’s about. But you don’t think about it long, too eager to get ready so you can begin spending time with him. It doesn’t take you long to get ready, and you and Dean are getting into the car to drive you into the city within an hour. 

“So, Daddy, urm, most girls my age are going to prom,” you begin, feeling your cheeks heat up. Dean licks his lips and looks at you, waiting for you to finish. “It makes me kinda sad that I won’t have one,” you admit. “The movies make it seem so fun and something exciting always happens.”

“What do we tell you, sweetheart? Movies aren’t real.”   
“Did you go to prom?” you ask. He laughs softly and shakes his head.

“Nah.” 

It’s silent between you for a long moment, and then he speaks up again. 

“You want a prom, Princess?” he asks. You look at him and he smiles, “Daddy can put on a prom for you,” he agrees. 

“It won’t be the same, don’t worry about it.” You don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you like the idea of going with a boy, and then riding there in a limo with your friends, and sneaking alcohol into the punch bowl and getting drunk, before going to someone’s house party and having sex with your date in someone else’s bed. You want to be a normal teenager, and there’s nothing normal about a prom you go to alone. 

“You know I’ll give you anything, right, baby girl?” he asks, reaching across and placing his hand on your thigh, just like Uncle Sam had done the day before, and once again you find yourself hoping he’d move it higher. “As long as it keeps you safe and happy, it’s yours.” You offer him a small smile and nod your head, letting him kiss your cheek, and the rest of the journey to the city is quiet.

-

Dean does what he knows best once you get into the city, and offers you his card, telling you to run wild and buy whatever it is you want, but truthfully, you want nothing more than to just spend time with him. You have so many clothes and  _ things.  _ You’re far more eager to go somewhere like a restaurant, so you can sit down with him and talk, and Dean agrees when you find a waffle house. You order the most sugar packed thing on the menu, something Uncle Sam would turn his nose up at, and you only manage a tenth of it. Your father doesn’t mind, but he does laugh at the fact that you always order something big and never finish it. You relish in making him laugh and getting his full attention for over an hour, but when a new waitress approaches to let you know that her name is Molly and she’s taken over your table after a change over, you can see the second that your father’s attention shifts elsewhere. A smirk curls over his lips and he thanks her whilst calling her  _ sweetheart,  _ and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to her ass as she walks away. 

He quickly returns his eyes to you, and even though you suddenly have his undivided attention again, you still feel like your skin might turn green. You ask if you can leave and start shopping, anything to get away from the pretty blonde that has grabbed your father’s eye, and Dean happily agrees, which you’re grateful for. He goes up to the counter to pay, even though it’s table service, and he makes  _ Molly  _ laugh and blush as she tucks her blonde hair behind her ear, and your jealousy only bubbles hotter in your stomach. Your father pays the bill eventually, and you’re fairly sure you heard him telling her he’d call her, before he reapproached the table and took your hand, helping you out of your chair. You didn’t return Molly’s smile when you passed her.

You have only been walking around the mall for a little bit, when you come across a lingerie shop, and you bite your bottom lip as an idea comes to you. You need to show him that you’re an adult now, you’re a big girl. You stop outside it, and as soon as he clocks what kind of shop it is his eyebrows raise. 

“I wanna go in here,” you tell him confidently. 

“I mean… do you need any underwear?” he asks. You don’t think you’ve ever heard your father question something you want, he’s always just let you have anything. 

“You saw what I was wearing earlier. I’m an adult now, I want nice things. Lace and silk and pretty things, please Daddy?” you beg. Dean sighs and reaches into his inside jacket pocket before getting out his wallet. He pulls his card out and holds it out for you. 

“I’ll wait on the bench over there.”

“No, Daddy, come in with me, please?” you plead. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, it’s not really appropriate for me to be with you when -” he cuts off when you pout your lips.

“Daddy, please?” You know you can get anything with a  _ Daddy please,  _ but you’ve rarely used it to your advantage, until now. Dean sighs and gestures for you to step inside, and you smile widely as he follows on behind you. You instantly start looking at items, feeling how soft they are, holding sets against your body to see how they might look, and Dean’s eyes are darting everywhere else.

“What about this one? Red or blue?” you ask, holding up a lace bodysuit.

“Put that back, Y/N, you don’t need that.” You giggle at the blush on his cheeks and put it back. You watch him carefully out of the corner of your eye as you’re looking at the rails, and notice how he reaches out and pulls at a teal lace thong, before dropping it again. 

You’ve seen some of the girls he has sex with wearing that kind of thing before, and he’s always seemed to appreciate it. You casually move around the rails, and then head to the teal thong you’d seen him checking out, picking up your size. Your eyes fall on a white lace set, something very similar to what one of your father’s friends had worn before, and you’re instantly drawn to it. Dean sighs behind you as you pick one up and look at it. 

“Baby girl,” he warns. 

“Daddy, please, I just want one thing that makes me feel good,” you plead. An assistant approaches you, and you notice your father becoming even more uncomfortable. 

“Anything I can help with today?” she asks you politely. 

“We’re fine, thanks,” he replies quickly. 

“Please, Daddy?” you ask again, and the woman’s lips curl into a tiny smirk. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffs, not even looking over at the woman. You beam and place the item with the other things you’ve picked up along the way. The woman steps back and gives you your privacy again, and as you get further back in the store, the lingerie gets a little more revealing, and then you can see there’s a sign that reads  _ TOYS.  _ Dean’s scratching at his neck now, but you ignore him as your eyes land on a box on the shelf, and there’s a dick inside. 

“What’s that?” you ask him immediately. You look at him and watch as he splutters over an answer before finally saying.

“It’s a urm - it’s a dildo.” He clears his throat, and you smirk. Uncle Sam is much better at these kinds of talks than your father, but you can’t tell him that if you are going to keep your promise to your uncle. 

“What’s a dildo for?” you ask next. Dean’s neck is practically bright red, he’s scratched it so much. 

“For urm, grown ups,” he blushes. 

“I’m a grown up now, can I have one?”

“Take my card, c’mon, just take it and buy whatever you want and I’ll be outside,” he flusters. You take it, never having seen him like this before, and he’s left the store like it’s on fire. You turn back to the shelves of dildos and look at the different colours and sizes. Some of them vibrate according to the writing on their boxes. If you had one of those, maybe you could practise, so you could be perfect for him when you finally become one of those girls. You pick one that looks similar in size to what you’ve seen of Dean, and then head towards the checkout. The woman tries to make small talk with you about the sets, and how pretty they are, and then she asks if you’re having a shopping trip with your boyfriend and what else you might buy. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a blush, going along with her mistake. “Not sure yet.” 

You carry the bag out of the store and find your father sitting on a bench, and he’s on the phone. As soon as he sees you he gets up and motions for you to turn around and head back the way you came. You walk beside him in silence as he starts to grunt down the phone at someone. 

“If you did your fucking job right the first time, Garth,” he grits through his teeth. “Alright, I’m fucking coming.” You realise you’re heading home, and you feel a little disappointed, but you’re grateful for the time you did get to spend together. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he sighs as Clive, his driver, opens the back door of the car for you to get in. You both climb inside, and as soon as you’re driving back home you place a hand on his thigh. 

“It’s okay, Daddy. Thank you for today.” You smile at him and he places his hand over yours and squeezes softly. 

“You deserve it, baby girl.” He smiles at you, but you can tell he’s stressed out, so you squeeze his leg comfortingly. Maybe you can make him feel better, maybe if you rub him over his clothes the way Sam rubbed you, it’ll help him. 

You let your hand move up his thigh a little. As it slips out from under his hand, and you get closer, Dean tenses slightly. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asks quietly. 

“Making you feel better, Daddy. You’re stressed.”

“No - baby,” he argues, but you keep going. 

“This makes me feel better, makes me feel really good when I touch myself,” you whisper. Dean’s plump lips fall open and he gasps for air. You finally feel over the lump in his jeans, and it feels like it’s a little hard. 

“Baby girl, stop,” he warns you quietly. 

“Doesn’t it feel good?” you check, genuinely curious. You’ve never done this before, you’ve barely been doing it to yourself for long, and you can’t tell from the look on your father’s face, his mouth hanging open, if he’s enjoying it or not. 

He swallows thickly, and then reaches for your hand and pulls it away.

“Sweetheart, no, we can’t.” You’re not used to being told no, particularly by him. You almost always get your own way, at least eventually, so you try again. The lump in his trousers feels like it’s grown now - feels thicker and longer under his slacks. He whimpers slightly, his fingers curling tighter around your wrist. 

“Bought a dildo, gonna think about you when I use it,” you tell him. “Always think about you, Daddy.” 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop.” His voice is loud and authoritative, and he shoves your hand away abruptly. You’re thrown off by his tone - it’s one you’ve never heard him use on you before. He turns away from you, and as you pull into the driveway leading to your home you notice how he tugs on his pants’ legs. You’re uncomfortable between your own legs yet again, even though he’s clearly upset now for some reason. Maybe you were doing it wrong, maybe Uncle Sam could teach you how to be better. 


	4. Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: inappropriate thoughts, pervy!Sam, incestuous thoughts, neice/uncle incest suggested, father/daughter incest mentioned, talk of drugs, talk of weapons, talk of sex work, manipulation
> 
> Chapter WC: 2946

**_Sam’s POV_ **

  
  


“Could get a shipment next week,” Dean offers, his green eyes sparkling up at Sam as he smirks.

“It’s a bad move, Dean, and you’d realise that for yourself, if you thought with something other than your dick for ten seconds.” 

“This has got nothing to do with my dick,” Dean argues. Sam clenches his jaw and huffs.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Sam snaps sarcastically, “because wanting to expand the business to strippers and prostitutes has got  _ nothing  _ to do with your sole mission to fuck half the country.” Dean rolls his eyes. 

“You know how much money is in sex?” Dean prompts.

“No, because I’ve never paid for it,” Sam retorts, accusingly. 

“Fuck off, I haven’t either,” he defends. 

“Of course you do, you ply them with product, it’s the only reason they’re hanging around you,” Sam scoffs, “you think pretty young things like that would be interested in you if you had nothing to sweeten the deal?”

“Fuck you, Sam,” Dean grunts, like Sam’s struck a nerve, “my deal is plenty sweet enough, I’m just a giving guy.” Dean winks, but Sam’s eyebrows raise challengingly. 

It’s enough to make Dean sulk like a reprimanded child for a moment, and Sam brings the focus back on track.

“It’s a bad idea, Dean. Feds are shit hot on sex workers right now, we only need one investigation and the whole business falls through, and we end up behind bars quicker than you can find your next hook up.” Dean scowls. 

“This is my business, Sammy.”

“ _ Our  _ business, Dean. The family business,” Sam corrects him. 

“Dad left me in charge, so be a good little brother, do your job, crunch the numbers and find loopholes in the law somewhere, because I’m gonna do this.” Sam’s jaw clenches harder at Dean’s patronising tone, and he shakes his head. Dean’s a real fucking idiot sometimes, and Sam just needs more control in the business, and preferably Dean needs less, or they are gonna find themselves in deep trouble before they know it. He’s surprised Dean hasn’t fucked it up already.

  
  


-

  
  


Sam’s mind has been racing all afternoon with ways he can try to stop Dean from doing something stupid - but knowing Dean, he’s already setting plans into motion, and Sam hasn’t got the time to think of some eleborate plan to take control. It’s taken him years to get the amount of control he’s already got. He doesn’t want to go behind Dean’s back, but Sam knows all too well that Dean isn’t going to let up on this, and Sam is trying to protect  _ both of them.  _ He just needs something to distract Dean, or convince him not to do this. He knows that he at least has to try to talk to him again, so Sam heads towards Dean’s office, with a well thought out speech prepared in his mind about how risky his idea is, and how if they were to get arrested and sentenced, Y/N would be left alone. He’s hoping using Dean’s biggest weakness against him makes him see sense. 

Sam stops dead in his tracks when he sees that Y/N is standing around the corner of Dean’s office, her hand in her jeans, and she’s  _ touching herself.  _ Sam’s jaw clenches, and he feels a pang of arousal strum through his veins, but he keeps it in check, hearing the all too familiar sounds of Dean and his company having a good time. He watches as Y/N peers back around to watch them, her hand working faster in her jeans and he bites back the smirk. Reaching forward he grips her shoulder, pulling her away and signalling for her to be quiet, before dragging her away and towards his office. 

Sam has known this was inevitable, the poor girl has been locked away like Rapunzel her whole life, and Dean’s been far too protective of her. Sam is too, of course - doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her, doesn’t want her to get hurt - but, unlike his brother, Sam recognises that Y/N is a woman now, capable of making her own mistakes. And she’s bound to be curious about sex and men - it’s only natural. Sam’s only surprised it’s taken this long for her, though he supposes her lack of exposure to anyone her own age has played a part in that. 

He waits until they’re locked in his office to glare at her. 

She jumps to defend herself straight away. “Uncle Sammy I-” 

“It’s rude to spy on people, Y/N,” Sam cuts her off. He’s annoyed, but when he thinks about it properly, he realises it’s jealousy. He can’t deny that he’s been looking at her differently since she’s started maturing, and now she’s a  _ legal  _ adult - 

“I know, I’m sorry,” she mumbles, pulling Sam out of his thoughts. 

“Your Dad won’t want you seeing that.” 

“I was just… I was curious,” she confesses. Sam sighs, licking his lips. He can’t stop thinking about the way she was touching herself, when she was watching Dean. He supposes no one has ever really explicitly told Y/N that it’s inappropriate to be sexual with your family, so she’s not to know that most teenage girls wouldn’t touch themselves whilst watching their Dad fuck some slut. 

“Sit down, Y/N,” he tells her softly, referencing to his couch. Maybe they should talk about this. He  _ should  _ be a good influence, he  _ should  _ tell her that what she did was inappropriate. But all he can think about is watching her touch herself again.  _ Fuck.  _ “You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? You can ask me anything,” he prompts. He reaches out and places a hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the soft, delicate skin. She nods her head and bites her lip, making Sam bite back a groan. Fuck, her lips are plump, much like Dean’s and Sam can only imagine how good they’d feel around his cock. 

“They were having sex, right?” she checks. Sam’s thrown off by her question. It had been extremely obvious what they were doing, and Sam hadn’t even seen anything. 

“Yeah,” he confirms. 

“So, when Dad has sex with all those girls, does he want to get them pregnant or…” she trails off, and Sam takes a deep breath, still a little confused by her strange question.

“He’s doing it for fun,” Sam explains slowly, “because it feels good.” 

Sam watches Y/N’s own confusion twist across her face for a second, and then she asks, “so sex isn’t just for making babies?” Sam suddenly becomes very aware that Y/N has clearly had a very black and white, science focused talk about sex, and she’s clearly very naive to the pleasure involved in that entire world. 

“No… Y/N, I thought you knew all this, you’re eighteen.” Sam’s own reminder of her age only makes him grip her thigh tighter. There’s something so arousing to Sam that she’s  _ this  _ innocent, even though she’s an adult now. 

“Well, my tutor always told me that sex was for making babies, you know the whole sperm and egg and pregnancy thing. But that was it. I’ve seen stuff in movies, but you’ve always told me movies aren’t real. So I don’t know.” Sam sighs heavily again and nods slowly, understanding her confusion. He and Dean had always been very keen on convincing Y/N that movies aren’t real, so that she'll never feel bad for missing out on anything, so that she’ll never want any of it. So even though he himself has sat through several sex scenes with Y/N on movie nights, he realises she’s never understood that to a certain extent, that is  _ real.  _

“Okay, guess this is overdue.” He frowns slightly for a moment and then takes a deep breath. He needs to set the record straight. “Sex does make babies, but it’s also something that we do because it feels good and we enjoy it.”

“Is that why when I touch myself down there it feels good?” she asks. Sam’s cheeks flush pink and his eyes widen, as his grip on her thigh tightens for a second. He can feel his slacks growing tight. The pure air of innocence to her less than innocent question makes Sam’s cock throb slightly. “Is that what sex feels like?” 

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know for sure because you’re a girl. But  _ touching yourself  _ does feel good, like sex does.” Sam’s honest, probably inappropriately so, but his erection is clouding his judgement - at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Is it… bad to touch yourself?” 

“What? No, it’s completely natural, sweetheart,” he reassures her. God, Y/N touching herself is anything but  _ bad  _ according to Sam’s cock, and that thought alone should be  _ bad,  _ but Sam can’t help himself. 

“Is it bad that I want someone else to touch me?” she asks next, biting her bottom lip. Fuck, she has to know what she’s doing, maybe she’s winding him up. Maybe she’s far less innocent than she seems. Sam’s mouth opens and no sound comes out for a second, before he finally replies.

“No, angel, it’s not.” Sam’s cock is aching now, he wants to touch her so bad. 

“What about Daddy? Or you?” she whispers. Sam’s fingers are digging in almost painfully now, surely hurting her, but she doesn’t flinch. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles under his breath, hardly an ounce of control left inside him. 

“I want to learn more, I want you to teach me,” she tells him sweetly, reaching for his hand and pulling it closer to her centre. 

Sam shouldn’t want this, but  _ fuck,  _ he does. The thought of teaching her about sex, showing her everything she’s yet to learn… Sam swallows hard, and allows her to press his hand against her core harder. He can feel the heat, even through her jeans, and he starts to rub, watching as her eyes widen all sex-stupid and pretty.  _ Fuck.  _ Sam pulls back and rises to his feet, scrubbing a hand down his face. What the fuck is he  _ doing _ ?! If Dean catches him, or finds out, Sam’s dick won’t be attached to him for long. 

“What’s wrong? You said it wasn’t bad, right?” Y/N checks urgently. God, Y/N can’t think what he just did is bad. What if she tells Dean? What if he gets over this guilt and he wants to do it again? If she thinks it’s bad - which fuck, it is - she won’t want to let him. 

“No, it’s not that… I mean, fuck,” Sam sighs. He bites his bottom lip, not sure what the next move is. Does he touch her again? Try and push past this hesitation of Dean finding out? Or does he be a  _ good uncle _ and stop this? 

“I keep thinking about being one of those girls for Daddy, doing those things with him, and it makes me feel good,” she speaks up again. “I want him to spend time with me like he does those girls.” Sam’s eyes snap to her again, and he takes in what she’s said. She wants  _ Dean.  _ She thinks about  _ Dean.  _ Fuck, he should be relieved, right? That she’s not going to pursue him? But all he can feel is jealousy. 

“You want to be one of those girls?” Sam checks. He scoffs at her confirmation, “you’ve got a lot to learn if you wanna be like them, sweetheart.” Maybe he can teach her, she might want Dean, but Sam could certainly help her out. 

Then it dawns on him - Y/N starting to explore her sexuality, starting to become a woman is just the distraction Dean needs, so that Sam can stop him making a big mistake. And then he thinks about all those girls that Y/N is referring to, and how they’re not much older than her - no doubt some the same age, even. And surely Dean can’t deny what an attractive young woman Y/N has turned into, he’s not blind. 

“Will you teach me?” she asks. Sam at least tries to seem like he’s thinking about it as she adds, “please Uncle Sammy? I’m a big girl now, I wanna be treated like one.” Fuck, Sam knows only too well how big she's gotten. 

“Okay, what do you want to know?” Sam asks, sitting back down beside her. 

“Everything.” Sam laughs slightly at her reply. 

Sam explains the different bases to her, not surprised that she doesn’t know any of it, and he knows it’s gonna need time to sink in. 

“I tell you what, I think that’s enough for one night. It’s getting late, so you should go to bed, and if you have any more questions, then come and find me tomorrow, okay?” Sam asks. Y/N nods, standing up as he walks her to the door. As she’s about to pass, Sam quickly adds, “oh and sweetheart? Don’t tell your Dad about this. He might’ve wanted to tell you himself.” He’s pleased to see her nod in agreement, and then she thanks him and wishes him goodnight, kissing his cheek. Sam should be ashamed of the very little time he leaves between closing the door behind Y/N and fisting his cock out of his slacks - but he’s too aroused to find it in him to care. 

-

Dean’s been out with Y/N shopping all afternoon, but news that a shipment of guns has gone missing brings him back home, clearly desperate to take over from Sam in trying to get the issue resolved. Sam doesn’t mind, because all he’s been able to think about is talking to Y/N again, now that his little lesson from the night before has probably sunk in. Dean seems flustered as he sweeps past Sam, and instantly starts yelling abuse down the phone at Garth, the guy in charge of shipments, but Sam passes it off as work stress and leaves Dean to it. Y/N enters the house after him, Clive behind her with only one shopping bag in his hand, and Sam knows that store all too well. He smirks ever so slightly at the black bag with fancy pink writing on it, before settling his eyes back on Y/N. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Good day?” he asks. She smiles softly and nods, but then bites her lip anxiously, and looks past Sam and after her father. 

“I’ve got this, Clive, thank you,” Sam smiles politely, taking the bag from Clive’s grip. “C’mon sweetheart, let’s get this up to your room.”

Sam leads the way to Y/N’s bedroom, and she follows on behind him quietly. Once they’re in the safety of her room, Sam closes the door behind them and sets her shopping down on the couch in front of her bed. 

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he checks. She nods softly and offers him a forced smile. “I’m sure your Dad’s sorry for cutting your day short,” Sam offers. Y/N sighs and bites her bottom lip. 

“It’s not that,” she admits, playing with her fingers in front of her. 

“What’s up, angel? You know you can talk to me about anything.” 

“I urm… in the car, Daddy was stressed, so I wanted to make him feel better,” she explains, her eyes on the floor. “So I started touching him, because it feels good, and I wanted him to feel good.” Sam’s eyebrows rise and she continues, “but I don’t think I was doing it right, because eventually he stopped me.” 

Sam can hardly process the information.    
“What exactly happened, Y/N?” Sam presses, genuinely curious, but also a little worried that she’s said something to Dean that might land him in trouble for putting thoughts into her head. 

“So I started touching him, and he asked what I was doing. So I told him I was making him feel better. Told him it feels good when I touch myself.” Sam nods, encouraging her to continue. “So then he told me to stop. So I asked him if it feels good. I didn’t want to do it wrong,” she explains. “He looked like he might’ve been enjoying it, but I wasn’t sure. So then he said that we can’t and he stopped me. But I really wanted him to feel good, so I tried again.” 

“Was he hard?” Sam asks. Y/N frowns slightly at the question, “when a man is turned on, his cock gets hard. So was he hard?” he asks again after his explanation. 

“I think so?” she more asks than tells him. “It felt hard to me.” She shrugs, like she’s not sure. “So, you’re saying if he was hard, then he enjoyed it?” 

Sam’s not sure if he’s jealous or happy that Dean enjoyed Y/N’s advances, even if he had been trying to pretend he didn’t. On the one hand, Sam wants that with Y/N, and he knows he’s never going to compete with Dean on that front - but Sam also realises that he can use this to his advantage. With Dean distracted by Y/N, he’s less likely to make himself busy with new business ventures, and more likely to give Sam more control. Y/N just needs to keep pushing - she just needs to try harder to get him to cave, and Sam’s sure with a bit of training, she’d easily be able to seduce Dean. 

“Probably, you just need to be more assertive.” 

Y/N bites her bottom lip. “Please teach me, Uncle Sammy. I wanna be like those girls and make him happy. I want him to pay more attention to me.” 

Sam smirks at her and nods his head, “oh sweetheart, when I’m through with you, your Daddy isn’t gonna want anything  _ but  _ that tight little pussy.”


	5. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: lingerie, mild uncle/neice, mutual masturbation, grooming, manipulation, watching porn, mentions of sex, fingering, wanking, orgasms, use of toy, size kink, virgin!Reader, uncomfortable moments during smut
> 
> Chapter WC: 2651

**_Your POV_ **

  
  


“So you’ll teach me?” you check, hopefully. Sam doesn’t reply, but his hazel eyes scan your body and it heats up under the attention. “So, you said I need to be more assertive?” you prompt, biting your bottom lip as you wonder what he means. 

“You need to be more confident, more sexy,” Sam explains. “If your Dad thinks that you’re hesitating, or not sure, then he won’t go through with it. And he’ll probably test you.”

“Test me?” you ask nervously, the idea of failing that test makes you anxious. What if you’re not as good as the other girls and you don’t pass the test? You won’t be able to handle the rejection. 

“He’ll probably tell you no, tell you that you can’t do that, tell you to stop,” Sam clarifies, “but he’ll just be testing you, making sure that you’re certain and that you want it, so you have to keep pushing.” You bite your lip thoughtfully this time, and nod your head in understanding. 

“So earlier on, when he said no, I should’ve carried on?” you wonder. Sam smirks and then nods his head. 

“If you’d have carried on, sweetheart, Daddy would’ve probably fucked you there and then.” 

The very idea makes you clench your thighs together for a second. The very image of your father bending you over that leather seat in the back of the chauffeur car and fucking you senseless makes your panties wet. 

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you? Getting wet just thinking about it, hm?” Sam smirks, knowingly. 

“You said I need to be more sexy?” you prompt this time, feeling a little flustered. 

“Need to start showing Daddy what a big girl you are. Shorter skirts, tighter shirts, show him what a woman his little girl has become.” You reach into your shopping bag and pull out the lingerie set that you’d bought. 

“What about this?” you ask, blinking at him. 

Uncle Sam’s mouth falls open, and he stares at you as you press it against your body to show him. 

“I caught Daddy looking at it, and I’ve seen his friends wearing similar stuff before,” you confess. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, that is perfect. Have you checked it fits?” he asks, swallowing hard. You shake your head. 

“Should I try it now?” you ask innocently. Sam coughs for a second and then nods his head. 

“Yeah, just to be sure,” he agrees quickly. You smile sweetly at him and reach for the buttons on your blouse, popping them open one at a time. Sam’s watching intently, and you bask in the attention as you slowly reveal your white lace bra. His eyes drop to your breasts, and he shuffles on his feet. Your uncle’s eyes on you is a huge turn on, but the attention starts to get a little much. You’re feeling self conscious, because what if it doesn’t fit? Or what if it looks bad? What if he can tell how aroused you are? You grab the garment and head towards your en-suite. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him softly. 

Once you’re happy with how it looks you step back out, tugging on the suspenders to keep it in place.

“Is it okay?” you check, feeling a little self conscious. 

“Jesus christ,” Sam grunts. He’s sitting on your couch now, and he’s lounging back quite far, but he sits up straight as soon as he sees you. “You’ve grown up so well,” he growls. You blush and giggle, shaking your head at his compliment. 

“Will Daddy like it?” you ask, playing with a suspender again. Sam frowns slightly, and then clears his throat. 

“What? Oh yeah, I’m sure he will,” he nods, “c’mere, angel,” Sam taps his lap and you slowly walk over to him, sitting down on it like you did when you were younger. 

Sam’s large hand dwarfs your thigh as he rests it there. 

“Look so pretty, your Daddy’s a lucky man.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, and when you shuffle in his lap, you quickly become aware that he’s hard, which makes you remember him saying that being hard is good. Sam grunts, his grip on your thigh tightening, and you take it as a positive reaction, so you purposefully roll your hips a second time. “Careful, sweetheart.” You stop and watch as he looks up at you, his mouth falling open slightly. “Fuck I wanna touch you so bad right now, but your Daddy would kill me,” Sam rasps. 

“Why?” you ask, very much liking the idea of Sam touching you again, and feeling slightly disappointed that he won’t be. 

“Because your Daddy is a jealous man, and if he found out…” His hand slips higher by barely a few millimeters, but it’s enough to get your heart racing. You want to tell Sam that you won’t tell your Dad, but you don’t like keeping secrets from him, so you don’t make your Uncle that promise. 

“How are you going to teach me then?” you ask quietly. Sam’s hand leaves your thigh all too quickly, and he’s lifting you off of his lap and dropping you to the couch next to him, before he gets up and heads over to your laptop. He pulls at cables behind your TV for a moment, plugging into your laptop, and then suddenly your large TV is showing your laptop screen, and he’s going on the internet. 

“What’s this?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest, as he loads a site that has  _ a lot  _ of naked people on it. There’s all different videos of people having sex. You’re instantly aroused as you look at the different thumbnails. So many different shapes and sizes and positions, your mind is racing. You never knew that there was so much more to sex than just a man sticking his penis inside a woman. 

“This is porn,” Sam explains, clicking on a few different links, until he’s found a video to play. 

“Since I can’t show you on me, you’ll have to watch other people do it.” He comes and sits down next to you as the video begins to play. The slim blonde on the screen is sitting doing homework when her father comes in and offers her help. He starts to massage her shoulders and then down to her breasts, and she moans and lets him open her shirt and reveal her bra. He pulls her up to her feet and then lifts her to sit on the desk, before kissing her passionately. You start to feel the arousal stir even more as the kiss gets more heated and they are stripping each other of clothes. Suddenly, the father is naked, his cock is hard and sticking out in front of him and it reminds you of the dildo you purchased. 

You bite your bottom lip and squirm in your place, and notice that Sam’s turned to look at you. 

“Okay there, angel?” he checks. 

“It’s making me feel turned on,” you confess. 

“Good, it’s supposed to,” he explains. 

“Are you turned on?” you ask, looking at him. 

“A little,” he nods with a reassuring smile. 

“Why do people watch it?” you ask, wondering why anyone would want to feel this uncomfortable. 

“People usually touch themselves whilst they watch. It helps them get off quicker.”

“Get off?” you prompt. 

“Have an orgasm.” 

You bite your lip as you think about his words.

“When I touched myself last night it felt really really good, and then it felt amazing. Was that… an orgasm?” you ask slowly. Sam smirks, but bites into it before he nods.

“Yeah, sounds like it, sweetheart,” he agrees.

“So that means I’m doing it right?” you smile.

“I mean… I could always check, if you want to touch yourself right now whilst we watch the movie?” he offers. You glance at the screen to see the girl is sucking on her father’s cock now, and he’s telling her what a pretty baby she is. You imagine it’s you and your Dad and swallow hard. 

“Okay,” you agree. You turn slightly in your seat to face Sam and open your legs. You start to rub over the front of your costume and hum softly when you feel how wet the material is. 

You’re very aware of Sam’s eyes on you and not the movie the whole time, as you try to show him exactly how you’ve been doing it. You pull the crotch of your costume to one side and Sam groans loudly. You glance up at him to see his eyes lust-blown and heavy. 

“Looks so good, sweetheart, dying to feel it - taste it,” he whispers. You mewl at the very thought, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Why don’t you push a finger inside, have you ever done that before?” he asks. You shake your head softly and Sam smirks. “Okay, want you to put one finger in there for me, relax, it’ll be tight, no doubt.” You nod your understanding slightly and nervously press against your entrance with the tip of your finger. The sensation is weird - different to what you’re used to, but you don’t hate it. 

“Fuck, that’s it angel, look so perfect,” Sam hums. “When you’re ready I want you to add another one,” he explains, his hand working over the front of his slacks. You can’t take your eyes away from the noticeable bulge in his pants as you wonder just how big he is, exactly what it looks like and how it feels and tastes. Sam notices you staring and chuckles softly. 

“You wanna see it, darling?” You look up into his eyes and hesitantly nod your head. The girl in the movie is moaning now, and so is the guy, but you’re too transfixed on the way Uncle Sam is popping open the button on his slacks, and his long fingers are tugging his zipper down. He reaches inside and then when he removes his hand, his cock is long and hard in his palm. You swallow hard, looking at the way it gets a little darker in colour at the tip, the way it glistens at the top, the way his fingers curl around it.

Your single finger inside your pulsing cunt pales in comparison to your uncle’s cock, and you wonder how any woman has ever fit something like that inside her before. But, fuck, you’re more than willing to try. At the very thought you eagerly try to add a second finger. You’ve never truly seen your father’s dick, not the way you can see Sam’s now, so close and detailed, every inch and bump and vein. You know your father is similar in size, possibly thicker, but you’re not too sure. If you’ve got any hope of fitting him inside you like those other girls do, you’re gonna have to do much better than even two fingers. Sam’s fist slowly twists up and down his length as his eyes fix on your fingers struggling to fit into your pussy. 

“Relax sweetheart, won’t fit them in if you don’t breathe.” You do as he says and take a calming breath before pushing again, and this time, your second finger slips inside, snug against the first. 

“There we go, angel, so fucking hot. So good for your Uncle Sammy,” Sam cooes. “How does that feel?” 

“Tight,” you whimper. Sam groans at your words and bucks his hips up to meet his fist. “Don’t know how I’ll ever fit Daddy in there - or you,” you confess. 

“Fuck, I’d certainly give it a damn good go if I could.” 

“Can I touch it, please Uncle Sammy?” you beg sweetly. 

“Shit, sweetheart, I wanna say yes so fucking bad,” he grunts. You attempt to give him your puppy dog eyes, but you’re pretty sure they’re too lust blown to work. “At least will you help me with this?” you ask, your free hand reaching into your shopping bag and pulling out your new toy. “Daddy bought it for me,” you tell him, biting your bottom lip. 

Sam nearly chokes as he looks at it. 

“Take it out the packaging, sweetheart, let’s see if we can make it fit, hm?”

-

You hiss and whimper loudly.

“Stop, angel,” Sam orders softly. You grunt a little frustrated and pull back. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he tells you with a sigh. 

“I want it to fit, Uncle Sammy,” you whine. 

“I know, sweetheart, but you’re so tight, you gotta build up to it. Maybe practise with your fingers first,” he suggests. You don’t want to waste time practising with your fingers. The sooner you can fit your toy inside you, the sooner you’ll be able to fuck your father. 

“I’m not good enough,” you complain, dropping the toy to the couch next to you. Sam unwraps his hand from his cock and reaches forward to grip your ankle reassuringly. 

“Hey, listen to me, angel. Firstly, it’ll be different when someone else is touching you, you’ll be more relaxed. Besides, us men love tight little pussies, feel so good around our cocks when we finally get them in. Nothing like it,” he groans. 

“So it’s good?” you ask, hopeful. 

“Fuck, yeah sweetheart, it’s  _ really good.  _ God, what I wouldn’t give to be the first man to sink my cock into you.” You feel yourself blush again and smile softly at him, silently thanking him for making you feel better. 

“Let’s forget the toy for now. Why don’t you make yourself cum for me? And I’ll show you how men cum?” he suggests. You nod your head and lay back, swirling your fingers around your bundle of nerves, as you know that’s what takes you to the edge. You reach up to grope at your chest as you start to bring yourself closer and closer, and Sam grunts as he works his hand over his cock faster and harder. You whimper, gasping for air, unable to pull your eyes away from Sam. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you, angel?” he smirks. You nod quickly, your thighs clenching as you chase your high. “That’s it, c’mon baby, let me see, let Uncle Sammy see you cum for him, I’m so close, sweetheart, you get me so close.” You moan loudly when you hit your high and Sam growls. 

Your eyes are closed now, your body having no energy to deal with any sense, other than the pulsing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm. Despite Sam not touching you once, the climax is still more intense than it’s ever been before, and you can’t help but wonder how intense it would be if he  _ was  _ touching you. Sam’s gasping for air, that much you can still hear over the thudding of your heart in your ears. 

“Open your eyes sweetheart, gonna cum for you,” Sam grunts. You flutter your tired eyes open and see that Sam’s shirt is wide open, his tanned, toned torso on full display as his body jerks, and spurts of white cum shoot out of his cock and onto his stomach. You watch in amazement as he slowly stops working his fist over his length, and lets his cock lay along the base of his stomach. You instinctively sit forward, curiously running your finger through some of his cum and bringing it to your lips to suck down. 

"Fuck, naughty little girl," Sam growls. You smirk. 

"I like it," you confess, sitting back again. Sam's chest is heaving as he calms down, and looks at you with a tired smile. 

“I think you’re ready, angel,” he pants. 

“Ready for what?” you ask, confused. Sam sits up straighter and reaches over to the table with the box of tissues on it. He starts to clean himself up properly. 

“Think you’re ready to show Daddy what a big girl you are,” he smirks. You’re not sure you feel ready, especially after failing to fit your toy inside, but Sam does know better than you with these things, so if he thinks you’re ready, then you must be. And suddenly, you’re very excited to see your Dad again. 


	6. Playing Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: watching porn, fem masturbation, mentions of incest, incestuous thoughts, dry humping, grinding, dirty talking, mentions of casual sex, mentions of daddy kink
> 
> Chapter WC: 2097

You can’t stop thinking about how Uncle Sam had deemed you  _ ready,  _ and your insides flutter every time you think about how you’re going to seduce Dean. After Sam had left your room, you’d eagerly browsed the website he’d left open, watching as many videos as possible. You’d seen things you’d never even considered when it came to sex. There were positions you’d never have even dreamed up, different story lines and scenarios, and you’d discovered you particularly liked it when the guy would talk to the girl as they had sex. If you’d thought getting off to True Blood had been exciting, it was nothing compared to this; clear shots of girls giving guys blowjobs, of the men stuffing them full and fucking them hard and fast in every which way. There were videos of more than two people, more than three or four sometimes too. And there were even videos of girls with girls and guys with guys. 

Your mind is spinning by the next morning. Having had little sleep - too engrossed in the website - your mind churns with the overload of information. You’d started out touching yourself, practicing the way Uncle Sam had taught you - putting your fingers inside - but you’d become far too absorbed in learning more from the videos to focus on any orgasms. You’d made a mental note every time a girl seduced a guy, hoping to remember them when you finally go and see your father. 

You’ve woken up with a throbbing between your legs, still thinking about all the different movies you’ve seen, and it doesn’t matter how many times you touch yourself - you’re still desperate for more. You once more attempt to use your toy, but it doesn’t fit, and you wonder if you’re reluctant to make it after Uncle Sam’s comment about men liking it when girls are tight. You want to be perfect for Dean, and what if getting the toy inside you stretches you out too much, and you never feel as tight as you do now? So you put the toy under your bed and decide to forget about it for the time being. You select a video you’ve already seen, but one that made you particularly aroused the night before. It’s another Step-Dad and Step-Daughter video - which there seems to be a lot of - and you relish in replacing the actors with you and your father as you watch them. Hearing her call him  _ Daddy  _ is a particular turn on, you’ve discovered, and you love how much bigger the men seem to be in these videos. 

You lay back on your bed and keep your eyes fixed on your TV screen as you begin to touch yourself. You’d removed the lingerie long ago, not wanting to ruin it, so you’d spent the night naked between your bed sheets that are now kicked to the end of the bed to give you the freedom you need. You can feel how wet and hot your pussy is, as you rub around your bundle of nerves and tease at your entrance a little. You feel sensitive there, and you’re not even sure you  _ want  _ Dean inside you yet - not until you’re sure that you can handle him without a fuss, you don’t want him to think you can’t handle it, because then he might not want you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do other things. You’re eager to touch him, to try to give him a blowjob - something else you’ve made a million mental notes about whilst watching the movies. 

You reach up with your free hand to grope at your breast as you feel yourself getting a little closer to that edge. The volume on the TV is fairly high, so when the guy bends the girl over the end of the couch and starts to fuck her, making her scream out and moan loudly, it fills your bedroom and drowns out your own moans. You reach for the remote and turn it down a couple of notches so it’s not quite so loud, and return to touching yourself, whimpering at the throbbing in your clit. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” You turn your head to see your father standing there, looking between you and the TV. He turns around the second you clock him. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologises. You reach to mute the TV and it falls quiet enough that you can now hear your heavy breathing. “Was coming to check on you - I’ll be in my office.”

“Daddy, wait, it’s okay,” you call after him urgently, but Dean’s left your bedroom quickly. You huff as you fall back onto your pillows, the couple on the screen still fucking hard and fast in silence, but you can tell from her face that she’s screaming. You’re still  _ so aroused.  _ And then you remember that watching porn and seeing you touch yourself had aroused Uncle Sam the day before. Does that mean your father is aroused now, too? What if he needs help? What if he goes to find one of his friends to help him? 

You jump out of bed and rush to pull on your sleep shorts and a small cami shirt, already heading in the direction of his office. You feel the plush soft carpet beneath your bare feet the whole way there, barely stopping for a second to consider your nerves. You’re acting on impulse and adrenaline and the throbbing need between your legs you can’t sate, no matter how hard you try. You knock his office door softly, and peer in to see him sitting at his desk, his hair a little ruffled, and you can only assume it’s because he ran his fingers through it. 

“Hey baby girl, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.” You’ve never heard your father so breathy and almost nervous, which only encourages you further. You step inside the office and close the door behind you.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” you purr softly, watching as he drags his eyes over your body a little. “I don’t mind you seeing,” you tell him as you approach him. Dean sighs and pushes back in his chair, creating some more space between him and the desk. He turns slightly in his chair to face you, and shakes his head. 

“It’s not right, Princess,” he mumbles. You bite your bottom lip and walk right up to him. 

“Did you like what you saw, Daddy?” you ask him, carefully opening your legs and climbing to straddle his lap. Dean swallows hard, his whole body tensing as you slowly lower your ass down onto his thighs. “Did you like seeing me touch myself, while I thought about you?” A groan catches in Dean’s throat, and his grip on the arms of his chair tighten, until his knuckles are turning white. “Wanted it to be you and me on that screen, Daddy.” 

You start to grind your hips back and forth, feeling a noticeable bulge in his crotch. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands leave the chair and hover over your hips for a moment, before he finally places them on your body and squeezes tightly. 

“Want you to fuck me so bad, Daddy, wanna feel you inside me, stretch me out. Bet I’m so tight. No one’s fucked me before.” You’re trying to remember the videos, but also using what Sam had said the night before to your advantage, and it seems to work because your father squeezes your hips harder and gulps for air. You bring your face close to his, the tips of your noses touching and you tilt your head, his breath fanning over your lips. You move forward, but find you’re chasing his lips as he pulls back at the same time. And then he stops, so you move to try again - 

Dean’s phone rings shrilly through the quiet and startles you away from him. He carefully encourages you off of his lap, and doesn’t even look at you as he tugs on the legs of his pants and wipes a hand over his mouth before grabbing the phone. 

“Yeah?” he grunts, clearing his throat. “I don’t fuckin’ care, Cas. You said you could do this, so can you or not?” He glances to see you still standing there, and tries to shoo you away, but you’re not done yet. You’re still so wound up. You drop to your knees and crawl along the plush carpet to his feet, spinning his chair to face you. You can see it now - he’s hard underneath his pants, and you’re desperate to help him, to feel it and see it for yourself. Dean looks down his body at you, and you bravely run your hands up his legs, bringing them closer to his crotch. He catches your wrist before it gets close enough and shakes his head. 

“I don’t want excuses, Cas,” he grunts, glaring at you. But you tell yourself he’s angry at Castiel, not you. “Can you fucking do it or not?” He drops your hand back down to your side and nods to the door. You sigh, taking it as your cue to leave. Business has taken over once more - and you realise, if you want to distract him completely, you just need to be better. 

-

  
  


It’s several hours later that you hear your father heading to his bedroom, and you wonder if he’s still feeling as pent up as you are after your little  _ moment  _ in his office. All you’ve been able to do since you’ve returned from there, is think about what might’ve happened had the phone not rung. Would he have let you kiss him? Got his hard cock out of his pants and let you touch it and suck it? Ripped your shorts down your legs and let you climb back onto his lap naked, rubbing your slick along his length as you grinded against him. Used his fingers to fuck you open enough that he just about slips inside, and it’s painful at first but before long you’re boucing on his cock and cumming so hard you’re seeing stars. Yeah - that’s what would’ve happened, you’re sure of it - he was so close to breaking before that damn call. 

You hear movement again after a little while, the opening and closing of your father’s door, and you stick your head out just in time to see him heading towards the stairs with only his sweatpants on. You bite your lip as you watch the muscles in his back move with his arms, the way his waist narrows close to the waistband of his sweats.  _ Fuck  _ he looks so good in those. You close your door softly again, and hear the soft murmurs of a girl’s voice and the jealousy sits thick in your stomach when you realise that he’s called another one of those friends. And why? He knows you’re right here, eager and willing. Does he need more than what you can give him? Does he even want you? He did in his office, didn’t he? 

You’re feeling far too deflated to go through with your usual routine of sneaking in to watch them. You figure it’ll only make you feel more jealous, and won’t have that same arousing affect it normally does - not when that girl should be  _ you. _ You sulk as you move away from the door, but it doesn’t stop her screams from being heard, even as you lay back on your bed. You rummage in your nightstand for your headphones, deciding to listen to music to drown them out. 

“Fuck, yes Daddy.” You instantly glare at thin air. Who the  _ fuck  _ does that girl think she is calling him  _ Daddy.  _ “Fuck me harder, Daddy please.” Your grip on your cell phone gets tighter, and you clench your jaw. Her voice is irritating, more so than those girls in the porn you’ve been binging. “Oh fuck, Daddy.” God, does she ever  _ shut up?!  _

“That’s it, baby, cum on Daddy’s cock.” You only get more pissed off when you hear Dean’s response. You shove your headphones over your ears and plug them into your cell, finding the loudest song you can think of in your music library. 

The drums and electric guitar fill your ears and drown out the sounds of your father, playing Daddy with some other girl. But when you think about it for just a moment longer, you realise that this could be a good thing. He’s clearly not totally opposed to fucking you after all. And you’re more than capable of reminding him whose Daddy he really is. 


	7. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: voyeurism, mentions of fem masturbation, incestuous thoughts, manipulation, mentions of age gap sex, casual sex, hook up, mentions of drugs, seduction, dry humping, sexual tension, p in v, daddy kink
> 
> Chapter WC: 3260

**_Dean’s POV_ **

  
  


Dean has been somewhat avoiding Y/N since what had happened in the back of the car the day before. It had become glaringly obvious to him when she’d answered her bedroom door in her underwear that morning that she was no longer a little girl, and that thought had been playing heavily on his mind - particularly when she dragged him into that lingerie shop. He could understand she was well overdue to start getting curious about sex and everything that comes with it - but Dean didn’t chalk himself up as the kind of father that would be any good at really explaining all of that to her. He’d hoped her science lessons would’ve been enough to satisfy, but she was bound to find out sooner or later that sex is more than just procreation - especially with him as her father. 

It’s times like these that Dean wishes Y/N’s mother was still around. She’d be good at the whole sex talk, lord knows he definitely didn’t handle the  _ other  _ talk that girls get - he assumes Sandy handled that one when the time had come. Truthfully, Dean is painfully aware that there are very few things he’s actually taught Y/N, very few times in her life that he’s been a  _ real father.  _ Everything to do with work takes over his life, and he spends the majority of his time making sure his head is above water, because the last thing he wants or needs is unwanted attention from the feds, or getting him or someone he loves into danger. If he’s totally honest with himself, he barely even knows Y/N. Especially now, when it feels like his daughter moved out, and some woman moved in to replace her, Dean realises just how much he’s missed out on. 

So he knows he can’t avoid her forever. He needs to talk to her, and tell her that what happened in the car can’t happen again, that it’s  _ wrong  _ for her to do that to him. He understands she’s curious and wants to try it for herself, but Dean is not the person for the job. Even if he does look across at her and see her mother, forgetting just who she is, especially when she’s acting so…  _ grown up.  _ Dean ignores the very shameful truth, that his body had reacted in a way that it shouldn’t have to the unwanted attention she’d showered him with. But she was  _ touching him,  _ it was just a natural reaction, right?

He heads to her room to talk to her, and opens her door without thinking or knocking, only to be hit with the sound of what is unmistakably porn. 

_ “Fuck Daddy, harder please.”  _ Dean frowns slightly as he steps further into the room, and can just see the TV screen in the reflection of a mirror on her wall, seeing some guy fucking some blond over the arm of a couch. Dean catches himself watching for a second, and then his eyes drift across the reflection and land on Y/N laying back on the bed. He can’t see much from the angle, but he thinks she’s naked, and it sounds like she’s touching herself from the soft whimpers and gasps that are leaving her mouth. Dean's pretty sure he can almost hear how aroused she is, and feels an arousal stir inside him again, and silently prays it’ll go away. 

For some reason he steps closer, now seeing for sure she’s completely naked - and if he wasn’t sure if she had definitely turned into a woman before, he is now. Every curve is feminine, mature, but in a way that still makes her seem so sweet and innocent, even if her breasts are more swollen compared to how they used to be, even if her hips do curve and dip into her waist - even if she does have her hand between her legs, playing with her little pink pussy, her fingers glistening with slick. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean gasps out. The second Y/N lays eyes on him, Dean realises this isn’t something he should be witnessing, and he turns around to give her her privacy. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologises. The room falls silent as the blonde stops screaming for her Daddy, and Dean tries to pull his eyes away from the reflection of Y/N he can still see in the mirror, despite his back being turned. “Was coming to check on you - I’ll be in my office.” He needs to remove himself from the situation - especially as he can feel his cock stirring to life in his slacks. 

“Daddy, wait, it’s okay,” he hears her call after him, but he’s fleeing down the stairs before he can turn around and do something  _ really fucking stupid.  _ Because he doesn’t  _ want  _ that, not with Y/N - not with his own daughter. And she is his daughter, despite how different she is now, despite how little he knows her. 

Dean’s running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm down as he sits at his desk and holds his head in his hands. He hears his office door open, and turns to see Y/N step inside. She’s thankfully wearing clothes now, though granted, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination - the very imagination that’s hell bent on remembering the image etched into Dean’s brain of her laying on her bed with her hand between her thighs.  _ Thanks brain. _

“Hey baby girl, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.” He watches as she steps inside the office and closes the door behind her.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she purrs softly, and Dean can’t help but take her in, remember what she looks like under those shorts and cami -  _ fuck.  _ “I don’t mind you seeing,” she adds. Dean sighs and pushes back in his chair, he needs to tell her that he  _ does  _ mind, that it’s wrong for her to try and pursue anything with him, because it sure as hell feels like that’s what she’s doing, and he can’t figure out why she’s got that idea in her mind, but she clearly has. 

He turns slightly in his chair to face her, “it’s not right, Princess,” he mumbles, shaking his head. 

“Did you like what you saw, Daddy?” she asks him, approaching him and climbing straight onto his lap. She feels so small and delicate straddling him like that, and Dean instantly thinks of all the girls he’s fucked in this office, legs either side of his, just like Y/N’s are now - hell, some of them he’s even fucked in this chair. She’s sitting on his lap now, and the warmth of her skin soaking through Dean’s slacks makes his mind fuzzy. “Did you like seeing me touch myself, while I thought about you?” A groan catches in Dean’s throat and his grip on the arms of his chair tighten until his fingers are buzzing.  _ This shouldn’t be turning him on.  _ “Wanted it to be you and me on that screen, Daddy.” 

Dean almost loses all control when she starts to grind her hips back and forth. She wraps her arms around him, and Dean instinctively reaches for her, hesitating for just a moment before gripping her hips.

“Want you to fuck me so bad, Daddy, wanna feel you inside me, stretch me out. Bet I’m so tight. No one’s fucked me before.”  _ Jesus Christ he needs to stop this.  _ But instead, Dean squeezes her hips harder, and he needs to take a lungful of air to keep his mind from spinning. Her lips are so close to his, he could kiss her if he wanted to. And he does -  _ fuck, no he doesn’t.  _ He pulls back as she comes closer, but then dares to stay still, like there’s something stopping him from ending this. 

  
  


His office phone rings shrilly through the quiet and startles them apart. Dean’s thankful for the wake up call as he tries to get Y/N off of his lap without hurting her, and scrambles for the phone. He tugs on the legs of his pants and wipes a hand over his mouth before answering. 

“Yeah?” he grunts, clearing his throat, like the person on the other end might know what he’s been up to - more importantly  _ who  _ he’s been doing it with. 

_ “Dean, listen, I’m not sure I can arrange the shipment for this week. I’m sorry I-”  _

Dean huffs, “I don’t fuckin’ care, Cas. You said you could do this, so can you or not?” He doesn’t want Y/N to hear this, so when he sees her still standing there he waves his hand to indicate she leaves. 

_ “I can try for maybe next week? They’re having trouble on their end-”  _ Cas’ voice fades to background noise as Y/N crawls over to him and spins his chair.    
  


He’s shamefully hard - natural body reactions again - and Y/N has appeared to have noticed. Dean looks down his body at her, watching as she tries to reach for his cock. He catches her wrist before it gets close enough, and shakes his head. He can’t have her knowing that he’s aroused. It’ll give her the wrong idea. 

“I don’t want excuses, Cas,” Dean grunts, when Cas falls silent. “Can you fucking do it or not?” Dean again tries to encourage Y/N to leave, more firmly this time. 

_ “Yeah I’ll get on it.”  _ Dean sighs relieved, not only at Cas’ confirmation, but the sight of Y/N finally leaving his office too. Maybe finally, he’ll catch a break. 

**-**

Catching a break is the last thing Dean does, because Sam waltzes in five minutes later and starts trying to once again talk him out of expanding the business. 

“C’mon, Dean, mixing sex and business is a bad idea,” Sam grunts. 

“Always done me fine,” Dean smirks, cockily. Sam gives him a hard look for a long moment. 

“Need I remind you about the whore you fucked who gave your name as her dealer to the cops two years back?” Dean rolls his eyes. Sam loves reminding him of that - how they got out by the skin of their teeth. 

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture right now, Sam,” Dean grunts. 

“Why? Everything okay?” Sam presses. Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah, fine. Let’s just say that Y/N is definitely not a little girl anymore.” Sam scoffs at Dean’s statement.

“Took you long enough to notice. She’s definitely a woman now.” 

“You can say that again - caught her watching porn this morning,” Dean explains awkwardly. 

“Oh?” Sam questions. “Well, she is an adult now, Dean, she’s allowed to do those things - legally too.” Dean frowns at the reminder. 

“Yeah I guess,” he mumbles. 

“I mean, you can hardly talk, Dean,” Sam laughs after a moment or two. 

“It’s different, I’m a guy,” Dean defends. Sam shakes his head. 

“Wasn’t talkin’ about you,” he explains, kicking back in his chair and linking his fingers in his lap. “C’mon Dean, the girls you’re fucking, even now, are no older than Y/N,” Sam scoffs. Dean frowns and shakes his head in disagreement. They’re  _ at least  _ twenty, he’s pretty sure, anyway. “You’ve gotten older, but the girls you’re fucking haven’t.” 

“That’s different - they’re… well, they’re…  _ different,” _ Dean struggles, waving a hand dismissively. 

“Are they?” Sam presses. “You know better than anyone what girls her age are capable of Dean. She’s a big girl now, I think she can handle herself, you’ve gotta let her explore these things, that’s what being a good parent is about - letting them go to make their own mistakes.” 

“You sound like you want me to let her work a street corner or something,” Dean rolls his eyes. 

“Hardly, I don’t like the idea of her doing those things with some random guy either.” Sam stops for a second, “you know it’s a shame she doesn’t have any friends that we trust, so that we knew that she was safe, and being sensible, you know? Ensuring she’s being treated well.” Sam shrugs a shoulder nonchalantly, “anyway, it’s late, I’m gonna call it a night. Oh and Dean? Spend more time with Y/N, she misses you a lot.” Dean nods softly. Usually it annoys him when Sam tries to tell him how to be a father, because it plays on Dean’s guilt, but tonight he’s too preoccupied with the topic of his conversation with Sam to feel the pang of shame at his neglect. Sam’s right, he needs to spend more time with Y/N. Even if she is hell bent on seducing him for some reason.

-

Dean’s feeling vexed after his second inappropriate run in with Y/N, having had no reprieve from the first one either. The stress of the day is getting to him - Cas not making good on his promise, Sam trying to sabotage his new business plan, Sam pointing out that Dean’s fucking around with girls his own daughter’s age. It’s all tension Dean could really do without. He needs some stress relief. He picks up his cell and scrolls through his contacts, until he lands on some female name.  _ Penny.  _ He tries to remember who she is, what she looked like, but he’s coming up blank. He finds their last conversation, a text exchange from a few months before and reads over it, double checking she’s not someone business related he’s forgotten about. 

**_< Why don’t you come over and show me what that mouth can do baby? _ **

**_> You gonna make it worth my while?_ **

**_< You know me I’ll sort you out sweetheart_ **

  
  


Dean assumes he’s safe to booty call her from the looks of their last exchange, and dials her number, lounging back in his seat as he sighs heavily. 

“Long time no speak,” she purrs, and Dean vaguely remembers the voice, but he can’t place it. He assumes he was out of it for their little exchange last time. 

“Hey baby, thought I’d call, been thinking about you,” he tells her with a smirk. 

“Yeah right,” she giggles. “Pull my name out of a hat or something?” she continues. Dean supposes he did in some ways and chuckles. 

“Was thinking of spending the night naked, what do you say?” he asks. 

“If that’s how you want to sleep, that’s up to you, Dean,” she teases. 

“Oh there’s gonna be no sleeping, sweetheart.” She giggles again and Dean smirks. “Why don’t you bring that sweet little ass over here?” She stays quiet for a moment. “C’mon, I’ll make it worth your while,” he tempts. 

“Dean, I don’t do that stuff anymore, got clean. And I have a boyfriend now,” she tells him. 

“Boyfriend, huh?” Dean presses. It’s not jealousy he feels, just disappointment he picked the wrong name out of the hat as Penny put it. “He make you cum as hard as I can?” 

“Dean,” she warns. 

“C’mon, wound up as fuck over here,” he tempts, “need someone to take it out on.” He hears her sigh.

“Give me an hour.” Dean smirks triumphantly and hangs up, deciding to get something to eat and shower whilst he waits on her. 

-

Penny is a redhead, bright blue eyes, plump lips and a tiny waist. Dean’s sure he’d have remembered her before, but all his past encounters blur into one now. He can’t be expected to remember  _ all of them.  _ He leads her up the stairs towards his bedroom and as he holds the door open for her, he remembers Sam’s comment from earlier that evening. 

“How old are you by the way?” he asks. She smirks and presses up against him, biting her bottom lip. 

“Pretty sure you should’ve asked me that three orgasms and four months ago,” she teases. Dean laughs a little uneasy. “Relax I’m nineteen,” she smirks. Dean relaxes a little that she’s  _ definitely  _ legal, but then he hears Sam’s scoff in the back of his mind and frowns slightly. “Why, how old are you?” she checks. 

“Old enough to be your Dad, sweetheart,” he admits. An even wickeder grin comes to her lips.

“I can call you Daddy if you want,” she purrs, holding her lips millimeters from his. Her hand cups over his crotch and the heel of her palm works over the length of his slowly hardening cock, before she pulls away and heads into his room. Dean clears his throat and closes his door behind him, feeling more tense than ever. 

  
  


It takes less than twenty minutes for her to be bouncing up and down on his cock, groping at her own breasts and moaning like a damn pornstar, and Dean grips her thighs harder and lifts his hips to meet hers as he pounds up into her mercilessly. 

“Fuck, yes Daddy,” she squeals. Dean laughs breathlessly at her new found name for him. “Fuck me harder, Daddy please.”  _ Fuck - Daddy please.  _ Dean sits up, wraps a hand around her throat and pushes her backwards, so she’s falling onto the mattress on her back, and he’s leaning over her now, as he fucks her harder and faster still. “Oh fuck, Daddy.” She’s shouting, making such a fucking scene Sam’s sure to give Dean shit for this tomorrow. 

“That’s it baby, cum on Daddy’s cock,” Dean growls, playing along. She only moans louder, arching her back off of the bed, and gasping for breath as she squeezes her eyes closed tightly. Shit, this shouldn’t be turning him on - not when he thinks of Y/N every time she moans  _ Daddy,  _ every time he calls himself the same thing. But it does, and he can’t stop his mind wandering the entire time. 

  
  


Dean finally feels a little less tense as he relaxes back into the soft sheets, and watches Penny re-emerge from the bathroom. She bends down to pick up her clothes and starts to redress. 

“My boyfriend thinks I went out to check on a girlfriend going through a breakup, so gotta go,” she explains, not that Dean’s at all upset about the prospect of her leaving. 

“Sure,” he replies casually, ruffling his fingers through his hair. Penny bites her bottom lip as she finishes doing up her jeans and grabs her shirt. 

“So, you said you were gonna make it worth my while?” she prompts with a smirk. 

“You mean that wasn’t enough for you?” he asks with a smirk. She blushes slightly. 

“Dean,” she warns. 

He laughs and then says, “thought you said you didn’t do that shit anymore.” 

“I don’t,” she argues. 

“How long have you been sober?”

“About two months, which is two months too long, so please,” she prompts. Dean’s eyes narrow as he looks at her for a moment. “C’mon,” she prompts. He sighs, defeated, it's not his life, and leans across to reach into his nightstand. He pulls out a small bag of powder and holds it between his fingers. As she goes to grab it he pulls it back. 

“You didn’t get this from me,” he reminds her. 

“I know the drill, same as before,” she tells him. He hands it over and she smiles, stuffing it into her pocket.

“Thanks, maybe see you again in another four months.” 

“Maybe,” Dean replies casually. “You know your way out? Clive can take you home,” Dean offers. 

“Yeah, I do. I drove, but thanks. See you.” 

  
  


Dean waits until she’s gone to get up and head into the bathroom, where he spends almost an hour in the shower, trying to wash away the less than clean thoughts he’s just had about Y/N - the very thoughts that had finished him off. 


	8. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: major angst, flirting, seduction, mentions of daddy kink, fem masturbation, male masturbation, voyeurism, mentions of neglect, rejection
> 
> Chapter WC: 3236

**_Your POV_ **

You’d barely slept all night, too busy thinking about that girl that had had the nerve to call  _ your Daddy  _ ‘Daddy’. But the more you’d thought about it, the less you thought about  _ her,  _ and the more you’d thought about how your father had responded, all the grunts and groans you’d heard. 

_ “That’s it baby, cum on Daddy’s cock.”  _ At first that had made you angry, but now the sound of him gasping that has echoed around your mind on repeat for several hours, there’s a wetness between your legs as you imagine he’s saying it to you. And then you imagine how it would feel if you  _ did _ cum on his cock. First, you had to imagine how his cock would feel inside you. You imagined the stretch as you struggle to fit him inside, the burn around the edges, thinking about him throbbing inside you, fucking into you so fast and hard it makes your breasts bounce and your eyes roll. And then - that intense feeling, only  _ better  _ because you’re stuffed full of cock and not just anyone’s cock - your father’s cock - and you’re about to cum  _ so hard  _ around him that it even makes him moan and grip your waist harder, fingertip sized bruises tainting your delicate skin for you to marvel at afterwards. 

But the reality is, you clench around nothing when your climax hits you, your fingers working your slightly sensitive bundle of nerves hard as you bring yourself down from your high gently, and your mind is spinning as you try to regain your breath. You know you can’t spend the day in bed masturbating. You have last minute studying to do for your last finals, not that you imagine you’ll do well when your mind is so preoccupied, and whilst you should be thinking about algebra and pre-calc, you’ll be thinking about your father’s cock and how desperate you are to feel it inside you. You need a game plan, one that gets you what you want. 

You begrudgingly get out of bed and head over to your closet, finding clothes to wear for the day. You opt for something a little more mature and revealing than usual, on the off chance that your father is around at breakfast. But at this rate, even Uncle Sammy’s praises and attention would at least scratch  _ some  _ of that itch. You’d never realised just how addictive that kind of attention could be. It was such a thrill whenever you felt desirable, whenever you thought they might be looking at you. Is this why girls your age were always so desperate to have boyfriends in the movies? 

You head downstairs and make your way towards the dining room, the smell of pastries and bacon filling your nose. You try not to feel too disappointed that Sam is in there on his own, and take your usual seat opposite him. 

“Morning, sweetheart, sleep well?” he asks softly, drinking his coffee and putting down his paper. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you lie, settling into your chair as a server pours you fresh orange juice. You smile at her to thank her, and you notice how Sam’s hazel eyes follow her as she retreats back to the corner of the room, and then they land back on you. 

“What’s up?” he prompts softly. You shake your head and pout your lips, as you reach for a croissant and start to pick at the flaky pastry. 

Sam leaves it alone for a moment, and you pick at your pastry, not really feeling particularly hungry for it. 

“Your father was loud last night, huh?” Sam asks, his voice a little hesitant. You shrug a shoulder and drink some juice. “You look good today,” he tries again. Your eyes finally flicker up to him, and a warmth blossoms in your stomach for a moment at the way he smirks across the table at you. “Don’t want your Daddy catching you in something like that,” he adds, his smirk deepening. You get the message loud and clear as you bite your bottom lip. “Don’t you have school today?” 

“Yeah, studying for my math final,” you tell him. He nods his understanding. “It’s my last one, then I’m graduating - well…” you trail off and shrug. It’s hardly a graduation. 

“Then you’ll be a fully fledged adult.” The way Sam smirks at you makes you feel a little better about the fact, and you bite your bottom lip. 

“I’m already a big girl,” you purr slightly. 

“Yes you are,” Sam agrees. Your cheeks heat up and you return to your croissant, and the rest of breakfast is quiet. 

-

You take a detour to your ‘classroom’ via your father’s office, and you press your ear to the door to hear him speaking, but when he’s quiet, you don’t hear another voice so you assume he’s on the phone. You dare to open the door and poke your head around it, seeing him sitting in his office chair in just his grey sweatpants and a plain t-shirt - a seemingly stark contrast to the authority he’s booming down the phone at whatever poor grunt is on the other end. His green eyes cast over to you, and they quickly return to his desk as he clears his throat. 

“Cas, I’ll call you back.” He hangs up abruptly and squeezes the bridge of his nose. He looks stressed, and you instantly close the space between you and stand behind him, rubbing his shoulders a little. 

“Everything okay, Daddy?” you check. 

“Fine, sweetheart, don’t you have school?” he prompts. He pulls away from your touch and you drop your hands, rounding his chair so you’re in front of him. Your denim skirt and tank top don’t leave much to the imagination, and Dean noticeably swallows as you stand in front of him. 

You jump up to sit on his desktop and smile sweetly at him, placing a foot either side of his legs on his office chair, your own legs widening a little, and no doubt giving him a flash up your skirt. 

“Just wanted to see you first, Daddy,” you purr, biting your bottom lip. If this was like those porn movies you’ve been watching, Dean would spread your legs wider and pull your panties to one side, so that he could taste how fucking  _ wet  _ you are for him. But it isn’t, and you become painfully aware of that when he barely glances between your legs, before grabbing your ankle and encouraging it off of his chair.

“C’mon, don’t you have finals?” he prompts. 

“Last one on Wednesday. Then I’m done with school, officially a big girl.” 

Dean rises to his feet so he’s taller than you, and then stands over you, reaching up to grip your chin. 

“I am too young to have a daughter graduating,” he tells you. You smirk a little and bite your bottom lip again. 

“Nah, you’re an old man now,” you tease. He scoffs a laugh and shakes his head, the crinkles around his eyes giving away the years he’s been alive, but fuck he still looks oh so handsome to you. 

“Don’t feel it, still feel twenty one,” he confesses, his fingertips beginning to softly ghost over your jaw and up to your lips. His eyes follow his fingers, and you feel your heartbeat increasing. 

“And if you were twenty one,” you whisper, feeling your voice shake a little, an ache beginning in your core as you bask in the attention he’s giving you. “What would you have done to a girl like me?” 

Dean steps back abruptly, his chair rolling further back into the room and crashing against the bookshelf behind him. The noise it makes is enough to startle you both.

“You’re gonna be late, finals are important,” Dean tells you. 

You scoff. “We both know you’re a highschool dropout and you seem to have done well for yourself.” 

“Do as you’re told, Y/N,” he warns, his voice as authoritative as it was when he was on the phone to Cas. Dean is rarely a strict parent with you, but on the very few times he has been in the past, you’d always known never to push him too hard, so you sigh and jump back down to your feet. “Oh and sweetheart? I’m away from tomorrow morning for a few days,” he tells you. 

“Why? Can I come?” you ask immediately. 

“Work stuff and no, you have your last final,” he reminds you. You huff a breath. 

“Where are you going?” you ask next. 

“Just out of town,” he offers, though it’s really not an answer. You’ve always hated how in the dark you’re kept about the business.

“One more thing, Daddy,” you add, playing with your fingers in front of you. 

“Yes?” You bite your bottom lip anxiously this time, and shuffle your feet. 

“I mean, once I graduate I don’t really know what to do. I’d like to go to college, but I guess that’s not an option, and well, I wondered if I could have a job with you?” 

“Absolutely not,” he replies without a moment’s thought. 

“Please? What else am I meant to do?” 

“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart, you know I can look after you.” You frown and shake your head. The idea of doing  _ nothing  _ your whole life just doesn’t sit right with you. 

“What’s the plan, Dad? You can’t keep me locked up here for forever doing nothing. What if I want to meet a guy, get married and have kids? What if I want to be normal?” Dean looks at you, almost amused for a second, and then he steps closer to you. 

“I do this to keep you safe, Y/N,” he reminds you, reaching out to trail his hand up your arm. He once more grips under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Maybe one day I’ll let you get involved with  _ some  _ of my work, but it would have to be something me and Uncle Sammy discuss at length first, okay?” he asks. You sigh defeated, and nod your head a little. 

“I just want to be normal, Daddy,” you whisper. He smirks softly and once more his fingers ghost over your lips. 

“Baby girl, something tells me you definitely don’t want normal.” You can’t deny he’s right, because you want him. More than anything. You lean into his touch and he hesitantly pulls away. “I’ll only be gone a few days,” he tells you. You nod your head, but you know that if you want to finally get what you want, then it has to be tonight, and you know you’re gonna spend your entire  _ study day  _ formulating a plan. 

-

As you’d predicted, you’d done very little studying and a whole lot of thinking about what you could do to win your father over. You’re pretty sure by eleven p.m, when you hear your dad go to bed, you’ve formulated the perfect plan. You check yourself over once more in the mirror, pulling on the lace so it sits perfectly over your breasts. You turn left to right, making sure it looks perfect and then you pull on your silk robe and tie it tightly. You're feeling a little nervous, but you know you need to swallow that down if you want this to work. You have to seem confident and mature, you need to be like all those other girls. Fearless. 

You step out of your bedroom and walk down the hallway, feeling the warm plush carpet beneath your feet as you come to the door to your father's room. You knock and wait, growing a little impatient and a whole lot more nervous as you're standing there. You don't hear any movement, so you carefully nudge the door open, and the sound of the shower running in his bathroom fills your ears. You step into the room, closing the door quietly behind you. You creep closer, hearing gasping and panting bleeding through the running water, and your thighs clench for a moment. 

"Oh fuck, baby girl." Your throat closes up at the deep grit of his voice, the way he gasps for air at the end of his sentence. But the feeling that overpowers your arousal is jealousy. Dean had always called  _ you _ his baby girl. You never thought you'd hear him call some slut that. And where did she come from, anyway? Usually you’d hear her giggling the whole way down the hall. Your stomach tenses as you step closer to his bathroom door, seeing it left open just enough for you to see his back facing away from you. You stare at the way his shoulders are broader than his waist, the way his muscles bulge around his shoulder blades. The water is trickling over every bump and curve, and you're fucking  _ jealous  _ that it gets to be so close to him and you don't. 

Dean is leaning with one hand pressed flat to the tiles and he's looking down his body. You half expect to see some whore knelt at his feet, but as you follow the water droplets down over his round ass to his bowed legs, you don’t see anything there. His other arm is jerking violently though, and you suddenly realise that the jealousy has evaporated, and all that's left is intense arousal, no doubt ruining the crotch of your fancy outfit. 

"God, you feel so good baby girl, make Daddy feel so good." You have to clasp a hand over your mouth as you listen to him. Is he thinking of  _ you?  _ Surely he's not? 

Dean grunts, his whole body jerking and the hand he has pressed to the wall curls into a fist. You can see his shoulders rise and fall with his breath, and then he straightens up and turns the shower off. You take it as your cue to tiptoe further into the room, sitting on the end of his bed and leaning back on your hands. You wait with your arousal practically dripping down your thighs, and your heart thudding in your chest. He steps out of the bedroom ruffling a towel through his damp hair, the rest of him completely naked and your eyes instantly land on his cock. It's still semi hard as far as you can tell, still jutting out just a little, thick and  _ perfect.  _ Better than any other you've ever seen. 

"Jesus christ, Y/N!" he grunts loudly, dropping the towel to his waist and quickly working on covering himself up. "What are you doing in here?" he gasps. He wraps the towel around himself properly, and makes extra sure it's tucked in enough. You bite your bottom lip, and as confidently as you can you pull the tie loose on your robe. 

"I wanted to show you what you bought me." You pull your robe open and let it drop at your feet. 

"Jesus!" Dean turns around in an instant and holds his hands over his eyes. "Y/N, what the hell?! I shouldn't see that!" 

"What's the matter, Daddy, don't you like it?" you press. He keeps his back turned to you and shakes his head. 

"This is completely inappropriate, sweetheart, I'm your father." 

You bite your lip, still undeterred thanks to the throbbing arousal between your legs. 

“Just wanna cum on your cock, Daddy.” There’s a silence so deafening you’re afraid to even swallow, and then Dean’s head tips back slightly. 

“Baby girl, whatever you heard last night, it’s not what you think it is,” he sighs, finally turning around to look at you, except his eyes don’t really land on you at all. He looks down to the floor and then bends down to retrieve your robe. He thrusts it in front of you. “Put that on, we need to have a talk.” You begrudgingly pull the robe back on and your father pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. 

“Let me…” he trails off and disappears into his closet, and in the few moments it takes for you to do your robe back up he returns with sweatpants and a t-shirt on, like you’d found him that morning. 

You let the disappointment sink in, as he motions for you to sit with him on the couch situated further into his room, and you do so silently, playing with your hands in your lap. He sighs and leans forward, clasping his hands together and bowing his head between his shoulders for a moment. 

“I’m going to assume that you heard some stuff last night,” he begins, and how awkward he’s feeling is evident in his voice. “I know that she urm… called me  _ Daddy, _ but it wasn’t… not the kind of way you call me that. Sometimes, during sex, girls-” he clears his throat and his cheeks flame red, “-they sometimes call the guy Daddy as a kind of pet name, it wasn’t - I wasn’t pretending to be her dad or anything.” You’re relieved to hear that he wasn’t trying to replace you with that other girl and you smile softly. 

“That’s okay, Daddy, I understand.” 

Dean sits up a little straighter and lets out a breath. 

“Great, I’m glad we cleared that up.” You reach over and grip his leg, rubbing it slightly. 

“I still want you,” you confirm. Dean grips your hand and forcibly pries it away. 

“No, sweetheart, this is what I’m trying to tell you, this can’t happen between us. Okay? You are my daughter, and I am your father and that kind of thing  _ can’t happen.” _ It’s the first time that you’ve really thought about that before. Admittedly, you have very limited experience with the outside world, but Uncle Sam had never discouraged you from pursuing your father, and porn never seemed to have any issues with it either. 

“But what about the other day? In your office? You made me feel so good,” you admit. His eyes close for a long moment and he sighs.

“Y/N, stop, okay? This can’t and won’t happen. I’m sorry.” 

You remain quiet and feel the rejection settle in, tears threatening your eyes. 

“This is my fault,” he sighs heavily and rises to his feet, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t ever want to upset you or say no to you, and I’ve let you get away with too much already. And the lines are fucking blurred and…  _ fuck.”  _ You assume he’s mainly ranting to himself as he begins to pace. “You haven’t got anyone your own age to interact with, and that’s my fault too. I understand you’re getting curious, and you’re an adult now, and I don’t know-” Dean stops and swallows. He can barely look at you, and you suddenly feel so stupid to think that he would ever want you in that way. Or at all - maybe that’s why he leaves so much. You’d never be one of those girls. You just need to leave, you can’t bear being around him when he doesn’t want you there. 

You stand up and head to the door. 

“Baby girl, wait, where are you going?” he asks with a sigh, reaching out and gripping your hand. You pull it free.

“To bed, I’m tired.” 

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Fine.” It’s silent and you head towards the door.

“Night, sweetheart,” he calls after you, but you don’t return it, because then he’d know that you're crying.


	9. Virgin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, incestuous thoughts, mentions of male masturbation, drugs, mentions of drug use, mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, underage sex workers, non-con implied, dub-con implied, mentions of taking virginity, flirting, teasing, mentions of guns, lots of illegal activities
> 
> Chapter WC: 2768

**_Dean’s POV_ **

Dean can’t help it. Ever since Sam had pointed out that all the girls he was screwing around with were around Y/N’s age, he couldn’t think of anything else. Until now, he’d never been bothered by the fact that they were younger than him, but maybe that wasn’t what bothered Dean the most, anyway. Because Sam had said something else to him before that, something that Dean had tried to shrug off, but it clung to the back of his throat like a bad taste. 

_ “You think pretty young things like that would be interested in you if you had nothing to sweeten the deal?”  _

Dean had always known there was some give and take in his hook ups, and his give was always product, but he’d never considered that they might not want him if he didn’t have that to offer. He thought he’d finally been able to prove Sam wrong with Penny, after all she was clean, she didn’t  _ do that anymore,  _ and she’d still turned up on his doorstep ready for a good time. But then afterwards she’d asked for it, and Dean couldn’t leave that thought alone. Everyone always  _ wants something  _ from him. And then there’s Y/N. She doesn’t want what the others want. Hell, she doesn’t really want something she shouldn’t. All she truly wants is his love and attention, she’s just going the wrong way about it - and that’s on him. He’s never been a real father to her and he knows it. So maybe these blurred lines are his fault. He’s the adult, he’s the one that’s supposed to know better, the one that’s meant to teach her. He’s meant to see the lines crystal clear. 

So then why is he getting caught up in this? He’s let her overstep too much already. The lingerie shopping, the touching in the back of the car, the grinding in his office - he should’ve stopped all those things so much sooner than he had. And dare he admit it, but it was only because he had just relieved himself the night before that he’d managed to stop Y/N in her tracks as she stood there looking like  _ that,  _ in the lingerie his money had bought her.  _ Fuck.  _ Dean doesn’t even want to consider what would’ve happened had he not gotten himself off in the shower. And it’s different to  _ think about it.  _ It’s different to imagine what she’d look like, taste like,  _ feel like _ on his cock. At least that’s what he tells himself, to make himself feel better for getting off more than once to the very thought of his own not-so-little little girl. 

Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to Dean. He loves her more than anything - more than Sam. He’s never had a love like that before, and he doesn’t even know how to deal with that, so he’s always pushed it away and ignored it. Because everything Dean Winchester touches gets tainted or ruined somehow, and he’ll be damned if that includes his daughter. But she’s already tainted and ruined, wanting him in ways no daughter should want her own father. But she does - want him, that is. She wants  _ him.  _

“Sir?” Dean glances to see the door held open for him. “We’re here.” Dean glances to the tall building and nods his head. 

“So we are, thanks Clive.” Dean gets out and buttons up his jacket as he heads towards the hotel doors. It’s opened for him by a doorman and he steps into the immaculate building and swans over to the receptionist. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m here to see the boss.” He flashes a wink at her and she raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. 

“He’s not here,” she tells him shortly, her blue eyes landing back on her computer as she starts to type. Dean’s a little thrown off that his charm hadn’t worked its usual treat, and clears his throat. 

“I have a meeting with him, actually,” Dean tells her. 

“I’m sure you do,” she replies plainly. Dean purses his lips for a second and then tries again. 

"Tell you what, honey, why don't you call him and let him know that Dean Winchester is here?" 

Her blue eyes widen, and her cheeks flush a darker shade of pink as she quickly tucks some of her auburn hair behind her ear. 

"Yes, of course, Sir." She instantly picks up the phone and presses a button. Dean flashes her another wink and watches as she offers him a timid smile. He waits leaning against the desk, casting his eyes around the black shining marble he can see his entire reflection in. "Mr Winchester? If you'd like to follow me." The redhead rises to her feet, and her heels click along the floor as she leads the way to the elevators. Dean follows on a few steps behind, enjoying the way her ass wiggles in her tight skirt, and when she steps to one side and allows him first entry into the elevator, he extends a hand to reference that she goes first. She nods politely and steps inside, and then Dean follows silently. She clears her throat delicately as the elevator doors close behind her and she glances at him. 

"I love your tie," she compliments. Dean smooths it down his chest and offers her a thank you in the form of a smile, noting that her frosty attitude is gone now. "I've heard a lot about you," she blushes. 

"All good things, I hope," Dean smirks. She bites down on her bottom lip and turns her body more towards him. 

"Oh, some  _ very  _ good things. I'd love to find out if they're all true… Should you ever be looking for a good time." Normally Dean would not be one to turn down an extremely attractive girl who's clearly up for some fun, but with his current inner turmoil weighing on him, he doesn't like the way her sudden interest settles in his gut. 

"I think I'm fine finding my own good time, thank you," he tells her shortly. Her cheeks only turn darker, almost matching her hair, as she steps out of the elevator as soon as the doors have parted enough to allow her slender body to slip through, and Dean scoffs under his breath before following her out. 

He's led through a long corridor, and she knocks on the large double doors in front of them once they reach the end. They’re opened by two scantily dressed women and the redhead offers Dean a forced smile, before encouraging him to enter the room. The doors are shut behind him, locking the receptionist out, and instantly the women are pulling on his coat to remove it. Dean allows them after a little moment of confusion, then spots the person he came to see in the first place. The shorter man swans towards him with a smirk set deep on his lips. 

“Dean Winchester, knew it wouldn’t take too long for you to stumble into my neck of the woods.” 

“Crowley,” Dean grunts. Dean isn’t dumb, doing any kind of business with Crowley isn’t a smart move, but once Dean has what he’s come for, he can take control. Dean looks around the room, large floor to ceiling windows span the length, looking out over the city, with several girls all dressed in varying forms of lingerie, dotted around the open space. 

“Enjoying the view?” Crowley prompts. Dean brings his attention back to him and forces a smile. 

“I’m a busy man, let’s talk business,” Dean instructs. Crowley references a couch for Dean to sit on, and takes a larger armchair situated on the opposite side of the coffee table. Dean sits down and instantly some girl is sitting alongside him, all legs and fluttering eyelashes. Dean glances over her once and offers her a weak smile, not letting himself get distracted. He knows Crowley is just trying to sweeten his shitty offer already. Crowley sits back, a blonde girl sitting on the arm of his chair and draping her arm across his shoulders, playing with his hair softly. 

“So, as we’ve already discussed, we’d do a sort of  _ exchange,” _ Crowley explains. “A shipment of my goods for a shipment of yours.”

“Yeah, see I’ve been crunching some numbers, and that isn’t going to work for me. My shipments are much more valuable than yours,” Dean explains smugly. 

Crowley scoffs, “and what makes you think that?” 

“C’mon, strippers and escorts aren’t hard to come by, you practically fall over them if you walk down mainstreet after midnight. What I supply has a higher price tag.” 

“Well it’s a good job we’re not talking just strippers and escorts then.” Crowley looks smug as he nods to the only other male in the room that Dean hadn’t even noticed yet, stood by a door, and he opens it and walks into the next room.

“We’re here to talk about shipping in girls, aren’t we?” Dean prompts. Crowley doesn’t say anything, and the guy returns with his hand gripping a young woman’s arm. She’s wearing a black g-string and a simple black bra, her breasts barely filling the cups. Her eyes are wide and fearful as he shoves her forward and she stands there shaking, hugging herself. 

“What’s going on?” Dean presses.

“That’s my sample,” Crowley smirks. 

Dean looks at the girl again and sees a girl barely older than Y/N, if at all. 

“How old is she?” Dean presses, not taking his eyes off her. 

“Let’s just say she’s eighteen,” Crowley shrugs. Dean frowns slightly. “Virgin too,” he adds. “This one came in yesterday, so she’s fresh meat and all yours for free.” Dean glances at Crowley and then back at the girl as she trembles in her place. “Can get you any girl you want, any shape and size, age, race, hair colour, you name it.” Dean swallows hard, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He’d known what Crowley offers is barely legal, but he’d naively assumed that the girls would  _ want  _ to be there - at the very least they’d be over eighteen. “These ones are like gold dust,” Crowley carries on, clearly feeling like he needs to upkeep his little sales pitch. “Virgins go for a pretty penny. Can usually auction them off to the highest bidder. And hey, if they’re tight and young enough - and the customer is dumb enough - you can always get away with  _ exaggerating the truth.”  _

“That what you’re doing? Pretending she’s a young virgin so I’ll go for her?” Dean asks, almost hopeful that's true. Crowley scoffs again and shakes his head. 

“C’mon Dean, I couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, guy like you can sniff out a whore from a mile away I’m sure. She’s the real deal, and I’ve got a hundred more like her just waiting for you.” 

“I’m not interested,” Dean shakes his head. The thought of touching that girl at all makes him uncomfortable. He’s no rapist and he’s certainly not a paedophile. All he can see when he looks at her is Y/N and that makes him more uncomfortable than anything else. He feels sick just thinking about how Crowley would look at his baby girl and see a higher price tag, just because she’s a virgin. 

“Now now, Dean, don’t be so rash,” Crowley warns. “When was the last time you fucked a virgin, hm? Bet you’ve forgotten how tight they are, huh? Fuck, there’s nothing like sinking your cock into unused pussy, is there?” Dean’s mind instantly goes to Y/N and how  _ she  _ would feel. The very thoughts that have sent him over the edge several times over the last week or so. Dean gets up abruptly, making the poor girl jump out of her skin. 

“I’m going to think about it, I’ve got somewhere else I need to be.” Dean doesn’t wait for a reply from Crowley, grabbing his coat from the hanger the women had put it on and leaving the room quickly. He cab feel nausea pressing at the base of his throat as he enters the elevator as quickly as he can, and he leans against the back wall taking some deep breaths. He needs the image of that girl out of his mind already. 

He practically speed walks out of the elevator and across the lobby of the hotel, the redhead from earlier catching his eye. 

“Thank you for coming, Mr Winchester,” she calls after him. Dean stops for a second and looks at her. She’s older than his usual girls, but older is good on this occasion. There’s no denying that woman is in her early twenties at least. 

“You want to have a good time, sweetheart?” he prompts with a smirk, turning back around and heading over to the desk. “Because I’m sure I could show you the  _ time of your life.”  _ She bites her bottom lip and glances at the clock on the wall.

“I get off in two hours,” she purrs. 

“You’ll be getting off more than that, baby,” he winks. “I’ll send a car for you in two hours.”

  
  


-

  
  


Dean’s New York penthouse is maybe one of his favourites away from home, and he’s already feeling better than he was, as he pours himself another whiskey and waits for the redhead, whatever her name is, to arrive. His sleeves are rolled up and his tie long gone, the first several buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. He’d been feeling better since his drop in at the warehouse he has in the area. The lost shipment had finally shown up and he’d personally made sure that every gun was accounted for. For the most part he trusted Garth, the site manager, so he eventually left him to it. He never hung around the warehouses too long - not wanting to risk too much of a heavy association with those buildings. 

Once he’d returned to the hotel, he’d taken a trip down to the basement level, to check on production, taking a few  _ samples  _ of his own in the form of pills and powders. He feels much more at ease dealing with what he knows best. Drugs and weapons are what his father dealt with, it’s what Dean and Sam were raised to deal with too, so Dean could understand Sam’s hesitation about expanding to involve the sex trade. Sam had always been so against it, and Dean just assumed it was Sam being anal and prudish - but after what he’s witnessed tonight, Dean hates to admit that Sam’s right. Smug bastard wouldn’t let Dean hear the end of that. 

**_< Deal’s going well. All okay at home?_ **

His text is a lie that Sam will buy, and he’s decided that the ‘deal’ is going to 'fall through _ '  _ in a few weeks, just to save himself the embarrassment of admitting defeat to his brother. The knock on his door has him disregarding his cell for the rest of the night, as he opens the door and sees her standing there.

“Hey,” she purrs.

“Come in, sweetheart.” He steps to one side and she swans in and shrugs off her coat, placing it on the first surface she comes to. “So I didn’t catch your name before,” Dean tells her, closing the door behind her. 

“It’s Aimee,” she replies smoothly. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” He walks around her and fixes her a whiskey, handing her the glass. 

“Don’t tell me this is the best you’ve got?” She takes a sip anyway, her red lipstick leaving behind a print on the rim of the glass, and her eyes don’t leave him the whole time. 

“Oh it gets much better, darlin’,” he smirks, pulling her in by her waist. He kisses her passionately and she places her glass down on the counter behind him, before wrapping her arms around his neck. He fishes in his pocket for the samples he acquired and holds them up, as she pulls away and her eyes sparkle.

“Pick your poison, you wanna pop something, or would you rather lick it off my cock?” She giggles at his comment. “I know what I’d prefer, baby.” She bites her bottom lip, her hand trailing down to the front of his slacks. 

“Think I’ll go for option B,” she tells him seductively.

“Oh good choice,” Dean hums in approval, “s’long as you let me take a hit off that perfect ass of yours, been thinking about that all day.” 

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping onto his already half hard cock tighter, “what are we waiting for?”


	10. Those Girls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: manipulation, mentions of spying/voyeurism, mentions of male masturbation, fem masturbation, Sam has even pervier Uncle vibes in this chapter, mention of drugs, high!Dean, seduction, mind games, taking nudes, self devaluation
> 
> Chapter WC: 2258

**_Sam’s POV_ **

Sam huffs a breath at Dean’s message about the deal going well, and decides he still isn’t going to reply just yet, even though Dean sent it well over an hour ago now. He drops his cell carelessly onto his desk, and turns his head to look out of his office window, and towards the pool where he’d seen Y/N heading a few minutes earlier. She often enjoyed a late night swim, and luckily, the glass walls that surrounded the pool and the angle of Sam’s office meant he could normally catch her swimming back and forth if she was at the deep end. There had been more than one occasion recently that Sam had taken advantage of his private view, as Y/N perched herself on the edge of the pool, dripping wet in yet another tiny bikini, showing off just what a big girl she’s become. Sam hadn’t touched at first, hadn't let his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do to her - he’d just watched and ignored his cock as it stirred to life. 

But ever since that day in her bedroom - when he’d seen more than anyone ever should of their own flesh and blood, when he’d watched how she touched herself, and he’d gotten himself off for her - he couldn’t resist popping the buttons, undoing the zipper, and releasing his aching cock so he can wrap his hand around it. He wants to do the very same tonight, but something seems different about Y/N, she seems smaller and deflated, Sam can tell that even from this far away. He purses his lips slightly as he wonders what is bothering her. His cell rings and buzzes along the deep mahogany desk, and Sam sighs when he sees his brother’s name. If Dean’s calling to boast about this fucking deal, Sam’s not gonna be able to hold his tongue. 

“What, Dean?” Sam snaps.

“Hey to you too,” Dean chuckles, and Sam can tell straight away that Dean’s not all there. Drunk or high, maybe. “So look, I was thinkin’-” Dean begins.

“I swear to God, Dean, if you tell me you’ve sealed that deal with Crowley before letting me go over the contract-”

“Crowley, no no nothing to do with that,” Dean mumbles. Sam instantly feels a little less tense.

“Okay,” he prompts, “then what?”

“It’s Y/N. I think I’ve upset her, and I wanna make it up to her." Sam’s eyes land on her at the mention of her name, and he watches as she turns gracefully in the water to swim back to the shallow end, the pale pink bikini bottoms she’s wearing hugging her ass perfectly. “Don’t like upsetting her,” Dean complains with a slur.

“Dude, are you high?” Sam huffs.

“Sh’up and listen, will ya?” Dean grunts. “I wanna give her a prom. Y’know like dresses and music, and nice food and stuff. Thinkin’ we can use the largest reception room, invite some friends and stuff, I’ll take her dress shopping.”

“Oh yeah, she’ll love going to prom with a bunch of middle aged businessmen and not one teenager in sight. Who’s gonna be her date? You-” Sam’s negative response is cut short and he smirks. “You know what? Yeah, I think that would be good, she deserves something.” He can just imagine it now - Y/N’s seen enough movies about prom to know how prom nights  _ usually  _ end for the eighteen year old virgin. If she’s got Dean doting on her all night, she’s bound to try  _ something,  _ and Sam only has to get Dean a little buzzed for Dean to not care about crossing that line _. _

“Great, maybe get Sandy to organise the catering and… whatever else goes into a prom, I don’t know,” Dean mumbles. 

“Sure, you know, she has her last exam tomorrow, would be nice to do it soon to celebrate that. Maybe this weekend?”

“Urm - well I was planning on staying in New York a little longer,” Dean argues. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll be right there.” Sam frowns slightly, and then realises Dean is talking to someone else. “ _ It’s wearing off and I’m still very naked.  _ Yeah okay, two seconds.”

“Dean-” Sam huffs, “put your daughter first for once, yeah? That deal with Crowley can wait.” 

“Okay, Sammy, yeah - whatever you say - I gotta go.” Sam opens his mouth to reply, hearing whatever girl he’s with giggle, and then the line goes dead. Sam stares at the homepage of his screen, seeing that Dean’s hung up, and sighs. 

He can now take three guesses as to why Y/N is not herself. Dean’s upset her, and Sam’s fairly sure he knows how. He gets up from his desk, his call with Dean quelling his arousal enough that he doesn’t have any issues to sort out, and he makes his way out of his office and down the hall towards the pool. He loosens his tie as he swans through the doors, the heat from the warm water hitting him in the face, bringing with it a stench of chlorine and chemicals. He pulls the silk material through his collar and drops it to one of the sun loungers. Y/N looks up as she sees him and offers him a weak smile at best.

“Hey Uncle Sammy.” She swims to the edge of the pool and lifts herself up to sit on the edge.

“Hey sweetheart, not seen you much today, everything okay?” he checks. He undoes some of the buttons on his shirt, and then works on rolling his sleeves up his arms to compensate for the warmer, more humid atmosphere. 

“Yeah,” she blatantly lies. 

Sam toes off his shoes and then his socks, and leaves them under the lounger before reaching for his slacks. 

“Don’t mind if I join you, do you? Only, I don’t have any trunks, so it’ll have to be boxers.” Y/N gives a nonchalant shrug and Sam smirks slightly, turning his back on her to undo his slacks and slide them down his legs. He turns back around to finish unbuttoning his shirt, and he notices how Y/N watches him. Her curiosity really does get the better of her, and Sam tries not to smirk at the very thought. “So, what’s up? I know something is. Can’t lie to your Uncle Sammy, you know that.” Sam shrugs off his shirt and walks over to her in just his boxers, getting down to sit on the poolside alongside her. 

She looks down to her lap as she plays with her fingers, some water from her hair dripping down to her cheek. 

“I’m not like those girls,” she blushes. “I try to be, but I’ll never be that sexy, or that confident.” 

Sam frowns slightly and shakes his head, “are you kidding me, sweetheart?” He can tell from the way she’s looking at him that she truly believes it. “Don’t you remember what you did to me when you showed me that lingerie?” Sam thinks about it and feels his dick stirring to life suddenly. 

“Daddy just told me to get dressed, told me it was inappropriate,” she starts. “I did everything you told me to,” she confesses. “I thought he finally wanted me, but then he rejected me - again. Told me it could never happen.” 

“Don’t you remember what I told you, Y/N?” he asks softly. She glances at him for a brief moment, and shakes her head. “Remember when I said he’s gonna reject you, make you think he doesn’t want you, because he wants to be sure it’s what you want?” Sam prompts. She looks at him for longer this time and sniffles.

“But what if he really doesn’t want me, Sam?” she asks quietly. Sam sighs, and reaches out for her bikini strap, noticing how it’s twisted. 

“Look at you, sweetheart, of course he does. Loves you more than anything. He’d be an idiot to turn you down.” He runs his finger along the wet string to straighten it out, letting his finger fall all the way to the start of the cup before he pulls back. 

He offers her a smile and she returns it softly. He can tell she’s not fully convinced, but she does feel a little better. She places a hand on his thigh and Sam tenses slightly. God he wants her  _ so bad.  _

“Maybe if I touch you? Practise with you?” she suggests, biting her bottom lip. “It’ll help with my confidence? You’ve already taught me so much.” Sam begrudgingly places his hand over hers and pushes it away softly, treading carefully, so that she doesn’t think  _ he’s  _ rejecting her too. That’s the last thing her confidence needs. 

“You should save it for your Daddy, sweetheart, he’ll want all your firsts.” She purses her lips, but doesn’t argue, and Sam bites his bottom lip as an idea comes to him. “Tell you what might help you feel more confident,” he starts. “You should take sexy photos of yourself. Maybe if you really like them, you could even send them to your father. I’m sure that’s gonna make him realise you’re serious about him.” 

“You think?” she asks, hopeful. 

“Oh yeah, darling, if I got photos like that from someone like you… I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

  
  
  


**_Your POV_ **

You say goodnight to your uncle and head to bed. Your conversation with him is still spinning around in your mind. Sometimes, you think Sam wants you, some of the things he says, or the way he looks at you and touches you - but why would he push you towards Dean so much if he wanted you like that? Did he see how much you wanted Dean? Could Dean see that for himself? You figured it did make sense that your father was only pushing you away to make sure you really wanted it. Kinda like a test. And you’d almost failed that test. Though you still felt nowhere near confident enough to try anything again - the rejection stung far too much last time. Maybe you do need a confidence boost, and as daunting as taking sexy photos of yourself sounds, you’re willing to try it if it helps. 

You get inside your bedroom and shrug your robe off, heading into your closet to look for some pyjamas. You catch yourself in the mirror and turn your body left to right, straightening out your damp bikini, and fixing your wet hair a little better. You’re not even sure how you’d pose to take a  _ sexy photo, _ but you grab your cell anyway, and try to get a good angle. The first few photos are awful, until you learn that popping your hip and bending your leg slightly makes your ass look better, and if you arch your back it makes your breasts stick out more. You bring the phone to cover half of your face, and then you snap the photo. The difference between that photo and the first one is incredible, and dare you admit it - you’re starting to feel a little better about yourself. 

You take a few more photos in that position, playing around with the angle of the phone and what facial expression you’re pulling. You then start fussing with your bikini, wedging the material further into your ass to make it seem more like a thong, and then you play with the neckline of your bikini to show more boob. You take a few photos this way, before eventually feeling brave enough to pull the cup of your bra to one side, exposing your hardened nipples. You take a closer photo this time, using the front facing camera so you’re just about able to see the way the bikini bottom strings hang low on your hips. You angle it so that your lips are in the shot and bite down on your bottom one. 

You then play around with taking snapshots sitting on the floor, nipples still exposed and legs open so you can see the crotch of your panties. It didn’t take you long to grow enough confidence to pull the crotch to one side, and take a photo of your glistening pussy underneath the material. 

You loved the photos as you scrolled through them, deleting the ones that didn’t work and keeping the best ones. You felt like one of  _ those  _ girls. One of the ones your father would check out, one of the ones he would fuck into the mattress and make cum on his cock. One of the girls he would get off to if he saw  _ those  _ kinds of photos. You decide to take a shower to wash the pool water out of your hair, and you can’t stop your hand from wandering between your legs as you touch yourself, imagining Dean receiving those photos and touching himself, like he did in the shower the other night. Your legs shake and you cling onto the side of the shower for dear life as you come down from your high, and then eventually get out of the shower. 

In the aftermath of your climax the feelings of being not good enough - not  _ sexy  _ enough - are back in full force as you wrap a towel around yourself and head back into your room. You grab your cell and look over the photos again, the ones you were so close to sending to Dean. And suddenly, you hate every single one, so you push your phone away and decide to pretend they never existed. 


	11. Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: angst, awkwardness, slight fluff, tension, anxiety, self devaluation, kissing
> 
> Chapter WC: 2799

**_Your POV_ **

Normally you loved spending time with your father, but ever since he’d rejected you, you’d been feeling awkward around him. Since he’d returned from New York the day before, the conversation had felt a little forced. He’d asked you about your math final, and you talked briefly about how strange it is that you no longer need to go to school, or see your tutor anymore. He had tried bringing up Paris, your supposed birthday present, but only to tell you he still couldn’t commit to a time whilst work is so busy. He did, however, attempt to soften the blow, by telling you that he was holding you a prom. At first the idea of a prom had made you excited. Dancing, a fancy dress, hair and makeup all done pretty, good food and drink. But the reality of what  _ your  _ prom is going to entail is no doubt a far cry from what you’ve seen in movies. You’re fairly sure your Dad doesn’t even know anyone your age, that he hasn’t fucked at least, and that would just be the perfect way to ruin your prom - if he invited all the notches in his bedpost. God, you  _ pray  _ he doesn’t do that. 

Dean clearly picks up on your lack of enthusiasm, because he tries to sell it even further, promising you  _ anything you want.  _ But all you can think is,  _ I want you.  _ You don’t say that, of course, too afraid of the rejection again, so you stay quiet. 

“Whatever it is you want to make this as normal of a prom for you as possible, we’ll do,” he promises over lunch. “You can have any dress you want, hell - you can have two dresses if you want. You can change halfway through the night, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks at you, “be like Beyonce or something, it would be very  _ extra _ .” You have to scoff your genuine giggle, but Dean picks up on it. “Whatever you want to make this night special, Princess - it’s yours.” 

You can tell he’s desperate to give you this, he probably thinks he  _ owes  _ it to you, so you sigh and nod your head in agreement. 

“Great, well I think Sandy picked out some dresses for you to try - unless you have any in mind?” 

“I haven’t thought about it, because I didn’t think I’d be going,” you confess quietly. 

“Okay, well, we can figure it out,” Dean nods with a genuine smile on his face. It makes you happy that he’s happy, so you return the smile and nod your head in agreement. "I'd love to help you pick, if you'll let me." 

“Yeah, okay, thanks Daddy.”

-

The five dresses you've got to pick from are already hanging around your bedroom when you get inside. There are varying colours and lengths, and your eyes are instantly drawn to a slinky navy one, with a scooped neckline and a high split up the side of the leg. There's a jewel embellishment above the split, and it seems much more grown up than the other choices - one of which is a Cinderella style ball gown with a huge skirt. You're already fairly certain you're going to hate that one. You decide you’ll try it on anyway, just to be sure. There’s a soft knock at your door, and you see your father’s head pop around it. 

“Come in,” you smile, and Dean steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He walks over to you as his green eyes dance around the dresses hanging up before settling on you. 

“Got a favourite?” he asks, digging his hands into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Yeah, the navy one, but I’ll try them all on,” you tell him. Dean nods in agreement. 

“Alright, so which one first?” 

You point at the dress that would give a Disney princess a run for her money, and Dean chuckles softly to himself, reaching up to get it down for you. 

“Are you going to need help with these?” he asks, a small blush forming on his cheeks. 

“I’ll call if I need you.” You smile softly at him, and take the dress into your closet to change. It doesn’t take you long to strip down to your panties and get the dress on, managing to zip it most of the way, but you can already tell before it’s even done up properly that you hate it. You peer around your closet door and see your father lounging back on your couch, playing with the remote to your TV in his lap. He glances at you and smiles.

“Well?” he prompts. You open the door wider, unable to keep the unimpressed look off of your face, and Dean laughs softly. 

“It’s not the one,” you conclude.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Dean smirks, “which one next?” he asks, standing up. 

You point to a red dress with a simple A-line skirt and a diamante bust, and Dean grabs it for you and hands it over. You smile at him as a form of a thank you and close the door again, eager to get out of the dress that weighs a tonne. The red one is better, far more fitted and less material, but it still doesn’t look right on you - you still just feel like a little girl playing dress up. In fact, you had a red dress very similar to this as a child; a dress that Sandy had a hard time getting you out of. You’re fairly sure you wore it almost every day for a few months. You hold the skirt up and walk over to the door, opening it to reveal the dress. You wonder if Dean will remember the very similar dress from your childhood, but he doesn’t say anything if he does. His smile is soft, but you can tell he’s as much of a fan of it as you are. 

“I don’t like it,” you confirm, and Dean sighs happily. 

“Me neither,” he smirks. 

You point to a pink dress next, this one lacy and full length, and it seems pretty enough, but something about the sleeves doesn’t sit right with you. You lock yourself back into the closet and take the red dress off, stepping into the pink one and getting the sleeves over your shoulders. You struggle with the zip that’s situated on the back of this dress, and eventually you sigh and call for help.

“Daddy?” you shout out. You can see through the mirror that Dean opens the door and pokes his head in. “Can’t do the zipper,” you tell him. He glances nervously over his shoulder.

“I can see if Sandy is still around?” he suggests.    
“Daddy, it’s only a zipper, it’s not gonna bite you,” you chuckle. Dean takes a deep breath and nods, stepping into the closet like maybe you’ve set some kind of trap for him to walk into. He finally reaches you and you feel him grip the dress and the zip, and then slowly he pulls it up, his fingertips brushing up your spine ever so slightly. You catch his eye through the mirror and bite your bottom lip. Your whole back is tingling from his touch.

“Thanks. What do you think?” 

His eyes drop as he takes you in in the mirror and then he says, “it’s lovely.” 

“But it’s not the one,” you tell him. “Please can you unzip it?” 

Your voice is a little shaky with your question, the idea of him pulling down your zipper, effectively undressing you, makes a wetness pool between your legs. Dean pulls the zipper down and then turns and heads out almost immediately, telling you he’ll grab the next dress, and you stare at his back as he leaves. He didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in undressing you, didn’t hesitate, you didn’t catch his eyes wandering or landing on the flash of white lace thong he’s sure to have exposed. Dean doesn’t re-enter the room, but he does hold his hand through the door, brandishing the next dress. You move to take it from him and thank him quietly. This dress is an emerald green, velvet with a low cut neckline and full length sleeves. You’re fairly sure you’re not going to like it, but you’re eager to get out of the pink dress. 

You step into the velvet and feel it hug you in all the right places, but it’s warm and you don’t want to be sweating all night. Plus, the green just doesn’t look right on you. You decide you’re not even going to show your father this dress, and it definitely has  _ nothing  _ to do with not wanting to face him after the way he’d fled the closet just now. You walk to the otherside of the door and call through it, asking him to hand you the final dress. You step back when the door opens and once again your father’s hand appears holding the navy dress - your favourite. You smile as you see it again, and pray that it’ll look good on you. You pull the green dress off and get the navy one on. It shows a fair amount of cleavage, which you like because that makes you feel more mature. The zip is on the opposite side to the split, so you’re able to reach it yourself this time, and as soon as you’re in it properly, you look up into the mirror. The split goes so high it leaves very little to the imagination, and you’re surprised that Sandy would’ve picked something like this for you, but you love it. 

You have just a little boost of confidence as you search for the perfect heels to match the dress, and then you excitedly hurry to the door to show your father. His eyes land on you the second you open the door - he glances up and down a few times, and then looks at the remote he’d been playing with earlier.

“What do you think?” you prompt.

“Yeah, looks good.” He doesn’t look at you again, your confidence rapidly draining. You’d thought you looked better than  _ good.  _ You feel  _ amazing -  _ at least you had. “Is that the one you want?” he asks. You feel tears press at the backs of your eyes at his underwhelming response to the dress, and you can’t reply to him without bursting into tears. You try to swallow them down, but the feeling of not being enough for him, not being one of  _ those  _ girls is coming back thick and fast. 

You go back into the closet and close the door.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” Dean calls after you. “You okay?” You don’t reply, trying desperately to not cry over something so stupid. “Baby girl? What’s up?” He prompts again, knocking the door. You want to get out of the stupid dress, all this is a stupid idea anyway. What kind of sad pathetic teenage girl has a prom and no friends to go with? You step out of the dress quickly, leaving it a pile on the floor, as you grab your t-shirt from earlier and pull it over your head. “Y/N? I’m coming in.” Dean doesn’t wait for a reply, and he seems a little taken aback when he notices you’re just in a t-shirt and a white lace thong. “What’s wrong, princess? Don’t like the dress?”

“No, I love the dress,” you sniffle. 

“Great, then have it. What’s wrong?” he frowns. You feel more tears come to your eyes and shake your head, biting your quivering bottom lip. Dean grips the tops of your arms and then runs his hands down them to reach your own hands. 

“I’m not pretty enough,” you sob out. 

“What? Where is this coming from?” Dean frowns, and bends slightly so his face is more level with yours. “Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” he reassures you. You shake your head, not believing him - because if you were, he wouldn’t keep turning you down. 

“You don’t want me,” you whisper. 

“Of course I want you, baby girl,” he sighs, pulling you against his chest and holding you there. He smoothes over your hair, and kisses the top of your forehead. 

You look up at him through your wet lashes and he grips your face and smiles softly. 

“Of course I want you,” he repeats. He falls quiet, his thumb brushing so softly over your bottom lip that you barely feel it, but it’s still enough to make electric sparks shoot through every vein. You reach up with a shaking hand, and grip the back of his neck, before pulling him in a little closer, and Dean turns his head and then his lips are on yours. It’s awkward for a second - Dean’s whole body going stiff - and then you feel him grip your waist, and you think he’s going to push you away, but instead he grunts into the kiss and pulls you  _ closer.  _ You whimper at the feeling of your body pressed so tightly to his, and you kiss him deeper, licking at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth so your tongue can slide inside. His grip on your waist tightens, and one hand leaves it to cup the side of your neck, fingertips softly digging into the very top of your spine at the base of your skull. 

Dean’s tongue is moving so effortlessly against yours, and it’s sending shock after shock down your spine to your toes. You feel like you can barely breathe as he turns his head a little, and for a split second you think he’s pulling back, but he only changes the position and settles back into kissing you harder. You cling to his shirt for dear life and shudder against him. The warmth spreads across your entire body - he wants you, he  _ actually wants you.  _ You begrudgingly pull back for air, feeling like you might pass out if you don’t. Your mind is spinning, and your lips are tingly, and Dean actually  _ chases your lips,  _ before catching himself and pulling back slightly. 

“Dean? Y/N?” Sam’s voice cuts into the room, and he’s opening the closet door before you can break apart. Dean steps back immediately, and wipes his lips with a shaky hand. 

“So yeah, the navy dress was perfect. You should get dressed again, sweetheart,” he tells you quickly. He glances at Sam. “Alright, Sam? What’s up?” 

“Was just coming to see what Y/N thought of her dresses,” Sam explains, glancing at you and then his eyes drop to your bottom half and you suddenly remember you’re only in a thong. Sam’s seen worse - but your father can’t know that, so you rush to pull your jeans back on. Sam makes a point of looking away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Interrupt? No, you weren’t interrupting anything. Was just helping her out of her dress, you know, the zip and all, but urm - I’ve actually gotta make a call.” Your father has left your bedroom before Sam can question his suspicious behaviour, and Sam turns to you and smirks as you do up the buttons on your jeans. 

“So what were you two up to?” he checks. 

“Nothing,” you shrug, but the smirk on your face probably tells him otherwise.

“Did you like the dress I picked out for you? Your father has a thing for legs,” Sam winks. You blush. It suddenly makes a lot of sense why it seemed strange Sandy would pick a dress like that for you. You’ve always liked how Sam notices you’re an adult now, and has treated you like one. It was clear in Sandy’s choice of dresses that she still saw you as a little girl, and you dread to think what she’d think or do if she ever found out just how much you’ve grown since she had become more of a general housemaid than your Nanny. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you manage to get out, still feeling your lips tingling - the ghost of Dean’s lingering on them. Sam looks at you for a moment and then gives you a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt tomorrow night,” he tells you quietly, before turning on his heels and leaving the closet. 

You finally let out a breath and touch your lips with your fingertips. You suddenly can’t wait for the prom tomorrow night, to wear that dress again for your father. And then you remember - how you forgot you’re not sure - he  _ wants you.  _ He  _ kissed you.  _ A heat blossoms in the base of your stomach and you just can’t wait to see if your prom night ends the way it does in all the movies.


	12. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: mentions of smut, mentions of fem oral, mentions of fem masturbation, fluff, nerves, v.mild incest, flirting, seduction, hints of drugs, jealous!Dean, protective!Dean
> 
> Chapter WC: 3326

You’d barely seen Dean since your kiss, but it was all you’d been able to think about the rest of the night. When you finally fell asleep you’d dreamed about it, only this time you didn’t need to pull back to breathe - taking air from his lungs instead - and Sam didn’t come in and disturb you. This time, Dean had peeled your t-shirt over your head and rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, cupped your breast with his large hand and then smoothed it down between your legs, rubbing over the crotch of your panties and making you squirm in your place in front of him. He dropped to his knees and lifted one of your legs to hook over his shoulder, pulling your panties to one side to get a taste of your sweet little pussy, moaning approvingly as he licked and sucked at your clit. 

You woke up painfully horny, and no amount of touching yourself had done anything to help the situation. In fact, it was made worse when you remembered that the kiss had been real. He had  _ actually kissed you.  _ He’d  _ actually put his tongue in your mouth and left you breathless. _ Needless to say, your mind was a mess all through breakfast, as Sam tried to inform you of the plans for the day, in order to get the place ready for that evening. You barely took in anything he was telling you, and you’re pretty sure he eventually gave up trying. 

“Thanks for the dress,” you tell him again, blushing slightly when you think about just why you’re thanking him. The more you think about your father’s reaction to it, especially knowing what happened next, the more you realise how you took it the wrong way. 

Last night you’d assumed that he wasn’t interested, that he’d looked at you and seen nothing special - but the way he’d told you that he wanted you, the way he’d kissed you, had made you realise that maybe he wasn’t looking because he was seeing something he didn’t want to. He was seeing his little girl, all grown up - and maybe that made him want you just as badly as you want him. It was all there in his kiss, the urgency, the need - you’d never kissed someone like that before, but you were willing to bet it didn’t normally feel that good. If it had been some random boy in school, it wouldn’t have made your legs shake and your heart thump so hard in your chest that it hurt - it wouldn’t have made you so uncomfortably wet between your legs. 

“I knew Sandy wouldn’t get it right. You want something more mature, something sexy, right?” Sam prompts with a tiny smirk. You bite your bottom lip and nod your head slowly. “And I’ve not seen you in it yet, but I can almost guarantee you look good enough to eat from the way your father bolted out of the room with a raging boner.” You feel your cheeks heat up, hotter at the very thought, and squirm slightly in your chair. “Talking of eating… are you gonna let that go cold?” he asks, referring to your eggs. 

“I’m not hungry,” you tell him, biting back the urge to add  _ for food.  _ Sam nods his understanding.

“Clive’s gonna be taking you into town for your beauty appointments, do you need me for company?” he asks. 

“Is Daddy busy?” you check. 

“If you want him less distracted with work tonight, you’re better off letting him do what he needs to today,” your uncle offers. You nod and purse your lips. 

“I’ll be okay, see you later.” You smile as you get up from the table, and like every other time recently, you know that Sam’s watching you leave, so you put a purposeful sway in your hips. 

-

You’re just adding the finishing touches to your look when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You glance towards your closet doorway and then check yourself over in the mirror. The dress looks even better now that your hair and makeup are done perfectly to match, and you’d had heels delivered that matched so much better than the ones you’d tried on the night before. You’re wearing one of the diamond sets that your father had got you for your eighteenth, a simple diamond in a teardrop on a chain, and matching earrings. You can hear movement on the other side of the door, so you know whoever it is has let themselves in.

“Hey, sweetheart? Guests are arriving, are you ready?” It’s your Uncle’s voice bleeding through the door, and you only feel the pang of disappointment that it’s not your Father for a second, before you catch another glimpse of yourself and smile. You feel amazing. 

“Two seconds,” you call back, spraying your perfume one last time, and then you turn around and slowly open the door. Sam’s looking out of your bedroom window with his hands in his slacks pockets, and when he turns to look at you, you note how gorgeous he looks in his bow tie and suit. 

“Wow, sweetheart,” Sam gasps slightly as he turns fully to face you. His eyes barely stay still as he scans you over and over again. “I knew you’d look good but - fuck,” he concludes softly. You only feel even better than before, and try not to beam too hard and make yourself look like an idiot.

“You think?” you press. 

“Fuck - yeah,” he scoffs. “Wow, you are so beautiful, Y/N. You’re a fully grown woman now, huh?” You bite your bottom lip gently, careful not to ruin your lipstick. Your confidence is through the roof at the way he’s looking at you.

“I think we both know that you knew that already,” you purr softly. 

Sam scoffs again, his cheeks turning a slight tinge of pink as he looks down to the floor and nods his head. You’ve hardly ever mentioned the day he taught you a thing or two, because you’ve always felt shy about it - but tonight you’re self-assurance isn’t holding you back. 

“Yeah, I’m not forgetting that in a hurry. Your father is going to lose his mind,” Sam smirks. 

“I hope so,” you admit, “I was kinda hoping that, you know… prom night…” you don’t say the words, but what you’re implying is fairly obvious as Sam smirks harder and nods his head. 

“And what a special night to do it,” he agrees, stepping closer. He reaches out and pushes a strand of your hair away from your eyes, letting his fingers trail down your cheek. “I’m sure your Daddy won’t be able to resist you, I know I want to lock that door and tear that dress off of you right now.”

You unashamedly squirm in your heels at the very thought, but you’ve got your eyes on one prize only tonight, and Sam seems to appreciate that, without you needing to say anything. 

“I’m sure Dean will do exactly that tonight.” You feel your cheeks burn and he drops his hand and offers his arm. “C’mon, your father is waiting downstairs.” You link his arm, and he leads you out and down the hall to the stairs. As you get to the top you can see your father standing anxiously at the bottom, holding something in his hand, and as soon as he sees you he smiles softly and straightens up. Sam starts to lead you down the stairs, and you descend them gracefully, thankful you don’t trip up on your dress. The closer you get to Dean the more you notice how utterly gorgeous he looks dressed up. Much like Sam, he’s always wearing suits, but there’s something different and special about this one. He’s wearing a bow tie to match your uncle, and his eyes seem more green than usual. 

As you reach the bottom you unhook your arm from Sam’s, and he takes the hint and makes his way towards the room that the lively chatter is coming from. Dean waits until you’re completely alone to open his mouth. 

“Wow, baby girl I-” Dean swallows hard, “wow. You look-” He shakes his head, and you giggle as he struggles to find a word. 

“Thanks, Daddy, you look very handsome yourself,” you tell him softly. He smiles at you for a moment.

“Right, urm-” He clears his throat, offering you the box he’s holding. 

“What’s this?” you ask, frowning. 

“Tradition,” he explains. You open the box to reveal a small white rose on a diamond bracelet.

“I love it, Daddy, thank you.” You lean forward and kiss the very corner of his mouth excitedly, and you feel Dean turn his head more towards you, and your lips are on his. It’s different to the kiss from yesterday - lips stay closed, but it still sends electric shocks down your spine. 

Dean pulls back and looks around him, as if checking you’re still alone, and then he takes the corsage out of the box and helps you put it on your wrist. You thank him softly and then link arms like you’d done with Sam. Dean begins to lead you towards the room, and you start to wonder just  _ who  _ he could’ve invited to have such a lively atmosphere. The room is decorated so beautifully, sophisticated and elegant, and not at all the tackiness you imagine real proms to be - but you prefer it, it only serves to make you feel more grown up. The guests are unsurprisingly not teenagers or highschool age, except two. You spot a blonde girl dancing with a guy - both around your age, and you vaguely recognise the girl as one of Dean’s business associates’ daughters. Claire, you think her name is. 

“Would you like a drink?” Dean asks softly, and you notice that a waiter has approached with a tray of drinks.

“Alcoholic?” you ask hopefully. Your Dad scoffs and shakes his head. 

“Nice try, sweetheart, that’s twenty one.” You scowl slightly and Dean sighs. “You can have one, okay?” he asks. You instantly smile and nod in agreement, and Dean grabs you both a glass of champagne each, handing you yours. You sip it excitedly, not sure you really like the taste, but happy to be drinking alcohol nonetheless. “Would you like to dance?” Dean offers. You bite your lip and nod eagerly, letting him take your glass and put it down, before he leads you out onto the dancefloor and pulls you close. You relish in the feeling of his warm hand pressed softly against your lower back, and you want so badly for him to move it down, maybe over your ass where it’s a little less appropriate, but you know he’s not going to do something like that in front of so many people. 

You rest your head on his chest and sigh happily, hearing his heart thud in his chest above the music playing as you sway together. You straighten up when a guy you’ve seen around the house a lot walks up behind your father and whispers something in his ear. Your father nods, and you know that look without him using words.

“Daddy, please,” you instantly beg. 

“I promise I’ll be right back, okay? You won’t even know I’m gone,” he reassures you. He kisses your cheek and leaves you on your own on the dance floor. Before the disappointment can settle in too far, you feel a hand clasp yours, an arm around your waist and you look up to see Uncle Sammy smiling down at you. 

“Wanted at least one dance with you tonight,” he tells you with an over-enthusiastic smile. You attempt to return it but you can’t. 

“I need a drink,” you tell him softly. 

“Alright, what do you want?” he offers. 

“I had champagne around here somewhere,” you tell him. 

“Want me to get you something you’d like better?” It’s like Sam just knows, but maybe it’s the way your nose crinkled when you said it that gave away your dislike for the alcoholic beverage. 

“Alcoholic?” you prompt with a small smirk. 

“Don’t tell your dad,” Sam warns. 

“I keep all our other secrets don’t I?” you smirk harder. Sam scoffs and nods his head. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” He leaves you alone again and you look around the room, clocking the food, so you head over to it. You take a small pastry canape and bite into it, licking your lips at the beautiful taste. You’re not sure what it is, but it’s delicious. 

“Hey, Y/N right?” You turn to see the blonde girl around your age and smile.

“Hey,” you reply, “Claire?” you check. She nods, beaming wide.

“Yeah, think we had a couple of play dates when we were kids,” she reminds you, not that you think she remembers herself, more that she’s been told by her own Nanny. You nod anyway.

“This is my boyfriend, Brad,” she tells you, pointing back at him. 

“Hey,” you smile politely. He gives you a cocky grin, and you notice how blue his eyes are. You can't help but notice that he’s kinda cute, the kind of guy that won prom king and got the girl in the movies. 

“Pretty cool that your Dad threw you your own prom,” Claire comments, grabbing your attention again. 

“Yeah, did you have one?”

“In school, yeah, but it sucked. Nothing like this. The afterparty was pretty rad though,” she smirks, looking back over her shoulder at Brad for a second.

You’re not sure what look they exchange, but Brad smirks himself, and continues to eyeball you. “Hey, you should totally come to one of our parties some time. They’re so much fun.” 

“Yeah that sounds great,” you agree. The idea of going to a party with other people your own age, being a  _ normal  _ teenager for once excites you. 

“Awesome. Do you have like Facebook or something?” Claire asks.

“What?” you press.

“Wow, you’re like Repunzel,” Claire giggles. “Get Facebook and add me on there. It’s Claire Novak.” You try to remember the information, and nod your head as Sam approaches you. 

“Hey, there you are, sweetheart,” Sam smiles, glancing at Claire and then Brad. “Your Dad’s asking after you.” 

That grabs your attention more than Claire’s invite to a party, and you smile at her and Brad, before giving your complete attention to your uncle. He hands you your drink, which is pale and cloudy, and takes your hand to lead you to a quieter part of the room. 

“Where’s Daddy?” you ask. 

“Listen, Y/N, Claire is bad news, I don’t think you should be talking to her.” You frown slightly, and then realise that Sam’s comment about your father was just to get you away from them, so you let the disappointment sink in. 

“What is this?” you ask, changing the subject as you stare down at your glass. 

“Vodka and lemonade,” he tells you. You take a sip, and the bitter lemon taste bubbles on your tongue. 

“Just tastes like lemonade to me,” you note.

“Well, vodka doesn’t have a taste,” Sam shrugs. “Thought you’d like it, it can get you fairly drunk.” You eagerly drink more at that revelation. 

After a little while and two glasses of vodka and lemonade, you tell Sam you’re going to the bathroom, and head down the hall. The party has spilled out into surrounding drawing rooms, and there are some people sitting around chatting. Your father’s office door is open, which is unlike him when there’s a function in the house. It’s normally locked. You peer in and see him sitting back on his desk, and Claire is standing in front of him, biting her bottom lip and reaching out to trail her fingers up his arm. 

“I just thought, y’know, if there was some  _ other way  _ for me to pay you for it, but I really could do with some.” Your father chuckles softly, and doesn’t seem to stop her from touching him, his shirt sleeves now rolled up to his elbow. 

“And when did you turn eighteen again?” he checks. 

“A few months ago,” she purrs. “C’mon, please?” she begs, “I’ll do  _ anything you want.”  _

Dean reaches for her wrist and stops her hand as it heads towards the button on his slacks. 

“There’s no need for that, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want this time,” he tells her softly. “But maybe you’ll think about charging your little friends for it, then next time you can pay me, hm?” he asks. She nods, biting her lip. 

“But I mean it, if you want  _ anything,”  _ she tries again. 

Dean chuckles, “I’m good, thanks.” You smirk at his rejection, wondering if he’s saving himself for  _ you _ tonight. “I’ll get someone to meet you tomorrow at Fifth Street.” She smiles politely, and Dean lets her wrist go, so she heads towards the door, and you quickly make your way to the bathroom like you’d originally planned. What is your father giving her? You’re assuming that it has something to do with the  _ other side  _ of his business. 

As you let yourself out of the bathroom you bump into someone, and when you look up you’re met with dazzling blue eyes.

“Brad, hey,” you smile slightly.

“Hey gorgeous,” he drawls. “So urm, thought it’d be easier to give you my number, you know, for if you wanna ever come to a party or… just hang out,” he smirks. He reaches into his pocket and there’s a slip of paper between his fingers when he pulls his hand out and holds it between you. 

“Oh, urm, I thought you were with Claire?” you ask awkwardly. You’ve never been propositioned by a boy before. 

“She doesn’t have to know, now does she?” he winks. His eyes drag over your body, but unlike your Father or Uncle’s, his attention makes you a little uncomfortable. When he realises you’re not going to take the paper, he reaches forward and slowly slips it behind the fabric of your dress that’s cupping your breast. 

It’s the most a guy’s ever touched you in  _ that way  _ before and you feel your heart beating harder. You’re somewhat aroused, even though you’re not really interested in Brad in that way. 

“Hey,” you hear your father’s voice boom from behind you, and Brad steps back instantly. “Beat it, jerk,” Dean grunts. Brad darts down the corridor and back towards the party. You swallow thickly at the look on your Dad’s face. 

“Sorry, Daddy. I urm-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart? Are you okay? Did he say or do something he shouldn’t?” Dean checks. You shake your head and smile softly at him.

“No, I’m fine,” you reassure him. He looks even better than before now his shirt is not so crisp and perfect. He’s undone a couple of buttons and ditched the bow tie, and your eyes trace the stubble that coats his jaw and neck, then down the column of his neck to the very beginnings of his chest. 

“I’ve urm… I think I’ve had enough of the party now,” you tell him, biting your lip. 

“Already?” he asks, frowning slightly. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, I just… I’m ready for the next part,” you tell him as confidently as possible as you grab his hand and bring it to your waist, hoping he catches on. “Was wondering if you could take me to bed?” you ask softly. You assume it must be the alcohol in your system making you so forward, even though you don’t feel the type of drunk the movies make it out to be. Dean licks his lips and hesitates for a second, so you step closer. “Please, Daddy?” you plead sweetly. 

“Alright” he agrees, with a soft nod. His hand slips further around your waist and he guides you towards the stairs, and with each step up, you get closer and closer to your bedroom - and closer and closer to getting everything you want. 


	13. Big Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: fluff, angst, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex trafficking, flirting, seduction, jealous!Dean, smut implied
> 
> Chapter WC: 2824

**_Dean’s POV_ **

Y/N takes his breath away as she slowly descends the stairs, linking arms with Sam. The dress fits perfectly, hugs every curve and dip like it was made for her exact body, and she looks even more beautiful than the day before when she’d tried it on - Dean didn’t think that was possible. Her hair is styled beautifully, in a way he’s never seen it before, and her makeup is done so well - not too much to make her look too old, but just enough to really enhance her features, and Dean feels like he can’t breathe. He had always thought Y/N was beautiful, of course, but he’s never seen her look the way she does right now. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and stands before him, smiling softly. If Dean was of sound mind right now, he’d be remembering how nervous he’d been to see her again just moments before, when he’d done so well avoiding her all day, after what had happened the last time they were together. 

He’d wanted to kiss her - wanted nothing more - and the kiss was like nothing he’d ever felt before, but the high didn’t take long to wear off, and leave behind a thick syrupy guilt in the base of his stomach. He should know better than to kiss his little girl  _ like that. Especially  _ when she was only in her panties and a t-shirt. Tongues pressing against each other, holding her so tight against him, feeling his slacks getting a little more uncomfortable each time she whimpered or gasped into the kiss. Dean had wanted so much more - almost gave into it, until she pulled back for air, and the tiny voice he’d drowned out with his thumping heart finally spoke up, just a little louder -  _ you shouldn’t be doing this.  _ Luckily, Sam had been his saving grace, because he had been  _ so close  _ to shutting that voice up again. 

It’s what Y/N had wanted, after all. Well, in as many ways. The very idea that she could think that he didn’t want her made Dean’s heart ache, when it was so far from the truth. He  _ did  _ want her. He wants her  _ too much  _ and that's the problem. He couldn’t bear to see her feel so awful about herself. Not when she's the most precious thing in his entire world. Not when he wants to give her anything and everything she could ever want or need - and he  _ could  _ give her what she’s asking for - even if he shouldn’t. And Dean doesn’t know how to deal with that - how he  _ should  _ deal with that. 

All he can think about since seeing that girl in Crowley’s penthouse is how he’ll be damned to let Y/N become anything like that. Even just the thought of some random guy laying his hands on his precious baby girl makes Dean’s skin crawl. If she’s hell bent on becoming a  _ big girl,  _ then maybe Dean should be the one to guide her through that. Teach her like a good father. Sam had made that comment once, about how it’s a shame they can’t make sure that her first time is special - and Dean knows it’s not a solution, but he can’t help thinking that he  _ could.  _ But there’s still that voice, the one that won’t shut up, because he knows no matter how many excuses he can come up with, he can’t justify all the things he wants to do to her. 

“Wow, baby girl I-” Dean swallows hard, unable to find the words, “wow. You look-” He shakes his head, not able to even think straight, and it makes Y/N giggle, which only makes his heart beat faster.

“Thanks, Daddy, you look very handsome yourself.” A blush accompanies her comment and Dean smiles. Then he remembers the corsage he’s still carrying, snapping him out of his trance.

“Right, urm-” He clears his throat and offers her the box, and she takes it whilst asking what it is. “Tradition,” he offers. At least, that’s what he’d read online. He watches her smile as she reveals the corsage, which fills him with slight relief. 

“I love it, Daddy, thank you.” Before Dean knows it, she’s leaning forward to kiss him, and he instinctively turns his head, so that their lips are touching before he can even think twice about it. It still makes his cock twitch like a fucking pre-teen. 

  
  


Dean pulls back when he realises where they are, and although his tongue isn’t in her mouth this time, he knows it’s still inappropriate to be kissing your adult daughter on the lips. He looks around them to check they’ve not been spotted, and then remembers the corsage, taking it out of the box and putting it on her wrist. Y/N thanks him softly, and then links his arm, so Dean begins to lead her towards the room. The place looks fancy, which is what he’d wanted. He’d asked the decorators to do better than they’d normally do for his usual functions - he wants this night to be as special for Y/N as possible, after all. 

“Would you like a drink?” Dean asks softly, as a waiter approaches them. 

“Alcoholic?” she asks, biting her bottom lip. Dean laughs derisively and shakes his head, loving how optimistic she is. 

“Nice try, sweetheart, that’s twenty one.” The look on Y/N’s face is one Dean’s always hated seeing, and he can’t help but give in. She is an adult now, after all. “You can have one, okay?” 

She accepts his deal, and Dean grabs them both a glass of champagne each, handing hers to her. “Would you like to dance?” Dean offers. Y/N nods eagerly, which makes Dean smile as he takes her glass and sets it down with his on a nearby table. Taking her hand, he leads her towards the middle of the dance floor, and pulls her close, pressing his hand softly against her lower back to keep her there. He practically beams to himself as she rests her head on his chest, and they begin to sway to the music. But they don’t get to dance for long before Dean feels someone come up behind him, and Y/N glances over his shoulder at whoever it is. 

“Sir, it’s Crowley on the phone, he’s quite insistent you talk to him, something about a new proposal.” Dean sighs and nods his understanding. The quicker he gets rid of Crowley, the quicker he can return to enjoying his night with Y/N. 

He can see the look of disappointment on Y/N’s face before he’s even said anything, and he hates himself for what he’s about to do - promising himself that he’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to her - give her anything she wants, if it means she’ll forgive him.

“Daddy, please,” she begs immediately. 

“I promise I’ll be right back, okay? You won’t even know I’m gone,” he reassures her. He kisses her cheek and heads towards his office, eager to get rid of Crowey for the night. He lets Bruce unlock his office door for him, and they both enter the room. Dean sees the red flashing light and sighs as he sits in his office chair and grabs his phone, pressing the relevant button. 

“Crowley I’m a busy man, what do you want?” Dean grunts. Dean knows he has the upperhand on Crowley, especially when the man was never subtle about his desperation to make a deal. 

“Long time no speak, Dean. I was starting to worry you’d forgotten about little old me,” Crowley’s English accent bleeds down the line, and Dean rolls his eyes at the man’s dramatic flare. “I was wondering if I could sweeten our deal? Two of my shipments for one of yours? Just to get the ball rolling, what do you say?” Dean’s not sure how to tell Crowley the real reason he’s not taking up the offer - that it’s far more out of his comfort zone than he cares to admit. Dean has spent a long time proving to everyone he’s as ruthless and powerful as his father was, and he doesn’t want the fact that he’s scared to dabble in the sex industry make him seem weak. 

Dean sighs and grabs the whiskey bottle in one of his desk drawers, and the glass that's inside, before pouring a measure and shotting it back.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’m going to expand my business elsewhere. So thanks, but no thanks. If you want any of what I have to offer you’ll have to pay for it, just like everyone else. Don’t call again.” Dean hangs up before Crowley can argue on the matter and huffs. “Get in touch with Bobby, make sure Crowley doesn’t push this,” Dean commands. Bruce nods his head and leaves the room. 

Dean sighs as he sits back in his chair and pulls his tie loose, dropping it to his desk. He undoes a few buttons for some air, and then begins rolling up his sleeves one at a time. He downs a shot of whiskey and licks his lips, before catching a flash of blonde in the doorway, and he turns his head to see Claire leaning there with a smirk on her face. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” Dean presses, watching as she slowly enters the room. The only reason Dean had suggested that Cas allow his daughter to come, was because he knew that she’s a similar age to Y/N, and he thought she should have at least  _ someone  _ close to her own age at her own prom. Cas doesn’t really have much to do with Claire and maybe Dean’s partially to blame for that, because Cas is always working for him. But Cas has never complained, and Dean’s always assumed he’s far more of a business man than a family man.

“Hey, so urm-” she bites her bottom lip as she gets closer. Dean lets himself notice how grown up she’s gotten. He’s not seen her since she was a little kid, and he wouldn’t have even realised who she was if she hadn’t arrived with Cas, and that boyfriend that she’d dragged along. Dean’s painfully aware that she’s close in age to all the other girls he fucks around with, but the thought seems a little more daunting to him, considering the association he has to her. “I was kinda hoping that urm-” Her fingertips dance along the edge of his desk softly, and Dean wonders just what she’s after. 

“Spit it out, sweetheart, I won’t bite,” Dean smirks. She giggles and blushes, and then bites her bottom lip again. 

“Well, I was wondering if you could give me something… fun,” she concludes carefully. Dean smirks harder.

“There are lots of ways to have fun, darlin’, I’m gonna need you to elaborate.” She slowly reaches up and taps the side of her nose, and Dean gets the hint. He watches her carefully for a moment, before rising to his feet and rounding the desk to sit on the top. She moves to stand directly in front of him, and bites her bottom lip again. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks her carefully. He’s pretty certain Cas would kill him if he found out he’d supplied his daughter with coke, but then again - Claire’s a big girl now and it’s not his concern - she’s not Y/N. “It’s gonna cost you, you know? It’s not cheap.” She sighs, now chewing on her bottom lip. 

  
  


“I just thought, y’know, if there was some  _ other way  _ for me to pay you for it, but I really could do with some.” Dean chuckles, realising where she’s trying to take this. Normally he’s never one for turning down a pretty little thing, but fucking the daughter of who is potentially his closest friend, so she can have some blow for free? Dean’s pretty sure not even he can stoop that low.

“And when did you turn eighteen again?” he checks, out of curiosity more than anything.

“A few months ago,” she purrs. “C’mon, please?” she begs, “I’ll do  _ anything you want.”  _

Dean reaches for her wrist and stops her hand, as it heads towards the button on his slacks. 

“There’s no need for that, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want this time,” he agrees. “But maybe you’ll think about charging your little friends for it, then next time you can pay me, hm?” he asks. She nods, biting her lip. 

“But I mean it, if you want  _ anything,”  _ she tries again. Persistent, apparently. Stubborn like her father. 

Dean chuckles, “I’m good, thanks. I’ll get someone to meet you tomorrow at Fifth Street.” She smiles politely, and Dean lets her wrist go, so she heads towards the door. “Oh and Claire?” he calls after her, prompting her to turn around. “Don’t tell your father, okay?”

“It’ll be our little secret,” Claire purrs, happily. 

Dean scoffs to himself and shakes his head. He probably shouldn’t have agreed to that, but Dean’s always had a hard time saying no to girls in one way or another. He scrubs his hand down his face and pours himself another drink, shotting it back in one, before deciding to head back to the party and find Y/N. He doesn’t need to look far as he starts down the hallway and sees her stood with Claire’s boyfriend - whose hand is on Y/N’s breast.   
“Hey!” Dean calls, gritting his teeth, making the guy step back quickly. “Beat it, jerk.” The sonofabitch darts down the corridor and back towards the party, luckily. 

“Sorry, Daddy. I urm-” Y/N tries to apologise immediately.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Are you okay? Did he say or do something he shouldn’t?” Dean checks, cutting her off. To his relief, she shakes her head and smiles softly at him.

“No, I’m fine,” she reassures him. Dean nods, and then notices the way her eyes are dragging over his body. 

“I’ve urm… I think I’ve had enough of the party now,” she says, biting her lip, and Dean can’t help but stare for a moment. 

“Already?” he asks, frowning slightly. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, I just… I’m ready for the next part,” she tells him. Before Dean can wonder what she means by that, she grabs his hand and brings it to her waist. The feeling of her body under his hand makes him smile slightly. God, she’s so perfect. “Was wondering if you could take me to bed?” Dean wants nothing more - and that’s the issue. Fuck, he’s had one too many drinks and something’s telling him this isn’t the bad idea it most definitely is. He wants to say yes,  _ so badly.  _ He licks his lips and hesitates for a second, and Y/N steps closer. “Please, Daddy?” 

Dean remembers the promise he made himself, that he’d give her anything - do anything to make this up to her. He just wants to make her happy, and if ditching her own prom early to go to bed is what she wants to do, then so be it. So Dean agrees, leading her over to the stairs with a hand around her waist, and then helps her climb them carefully. It’s somewhat quiet besides the background chatter from the party, which fades the higher and higher they climb, until it’s basically nothing outside of Y/N’s bedroom door. 

“I hope you had a good night, sweetheart,” Dean tells her honestly. She lingers with her hand on the doorknob and bites her bottom lip, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

“Aren’t you going to tuck me in, Daddy?” she asks softly, reaching up to play with one of the buttons on his shirt. Dean looks down his body, and watches her for a moment, scoffing. 

Truthfully, as much as the thought of stepping into that bedroom with her appeals to Dean, something is telling him that he  _ really really  _ shouldn’t. 

“You’re a big girl, don’t think you need me to do that anymore,” he notes, his voice a little less assertive than he’d have liked. She giggles and her fingertips follow the buttons down to where his shirt is tucked into his slacks. She plays with the waistband with her small delicate fingers, and Dean feels his whole body react to the touch as his resolve starts to melt away.  _ Fuck.  _

“I’m glad you finally noticed, Daddy,” she purrs. “But I could still use some help getting out of this dress.” Dean swallows thickly, his heart now thudding in his chest.  _ Fuck, he shouldn’t.  _

“Okay, I’ll help you undo it, then I’ll have to head back to the party, okay?” he compromises. But something is telling Dean that they both know that’s a lie. 


	14. Prom Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: flirting, teasing, seduction, father/daughter incest, first base, dry humping, orgasm, biting, dirty talking
> 
> Chapter WC: 2590

**_Your POV_ **

“Aren’t you going to tuck me in, Daddy?” you ask softly, reaching up to play with one of the buttons on Dean’s shirt. Your heart is thudding harder in your chest, and you’re impressed at your own forwardness, assuming it’s the alcohol. There’s a slight niggling in the back of your mind that he’ll reject you again, but just remembering the kiss you shared in your closest shuts that thought up. 

Your father scoffs lightly, and with a slightly shaky voice he replies, “you’re a big girl, don’t think you need me to do that anymore.” You can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you giggle, and your fingertips follow the buttons down to where his shirt is tucked into his slacks. You want so desperately to unbutton them, but instead you play with the waistband, and you flick your eyes up to see Dean watching your fingers - and he’s not stopping you. 

“I’m glad you finally noticed, Daddy,” you purr. You feel his stomach tense just slightly under your touch, and decide to push just a little further. “But I could still do with some help getting out of this dress.” You watch his throat as he swallows thickly, and just  _ pray  _ you’ll get what you want. 

“Okay, I’ll help you undo it, then I’ll have to head back to the party, okay?” he compromises.

You bite back the huge smile that’s about to spread over your face, and nod your head. You open your bedroom door and step inside, Dean following closely behind you, and you’re pleased to see he’s shutting the door behind him. You turn around to face him at the foot of your bed, and he steps up in front of you. 

“Turn around, baby girl,” he commands softly. 

“The zip is actually on the side,” you whisper, lifting your arm slightly to show him. He frowns for a split second, and then smirks the next.

“Doesn’t seem like you need any help to me then,” he almost teases, and you reach out and grip his shirt before he can even think about going anywhere. With your other hand you reach for his wrist and guide it just below your breast, to where the zip begins. 

“Only wore this dress so you could take it off.”

Dean sighs softly, and pushes you slightly to turn you away from him, so he has a better angle on the zip, and then he slowly proceeds to pull it down, the material growing more and more slack around your frame with each passing second. When it’s finally loose enough, the sleeves fall down your arms, and you let the dress fall to your hips and then the floor. With your back to Dean you can’t see his initial reaction, but his hand is still hovering where the zip had been, and now his rough fingertips are grazing over your soft flesh instead. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, thanks to the low cut neckline, so you’re almost naked, except for the teal panties that you’d bought after noticing your father eyeing them up in the lingerie shop. 

You can hear Dean take a shuddering breath in, and then you feel his body warmth soak into your back, and his fingers trail down your waist to your hip, as he squeezes it softly and pulls you back flush against his body. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of skin when you feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, and you close your eyes as an uncomfortable wetness pools in your panties. You’re far less confident than you were feeling with your dress on, but the arousal that’s building inside you still drives you forward. You reach down for his hand and boldly guide it up your body to your bare breast. Dean takes a sharp breath in, and his fingers flex just a little around you. 

“Been thinking about this a lot,” you admit quietly. You’re almost afraid you’ll scare him away if you say or do anything too loud or forward. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out, and you feel him press his forehead to your shoulder. “Me too, baby girl,” he admits so quietly you’re wondering if you were even meant to hear it. 

“Want you so much, Daddy,” you whisper. You guide his hand down your body, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find absolutely no resistance, even when it becomes clear where you’re taking him. You widen your stance just a little as you slide his hand over the lace crotch of your panties. “Feel how much I want you?”

Dean doesn’t reply, but he does abruptly pull his hand away, and before you can protest, or feel the sting of rejection, he spins you around to face him and presses his lips to yours. You kiss back just as passionately, feeling a little more confident than last time, as you open your mouth and let your tongues press against each other. Dean holds your face hard in his hands, nibbling down on your bottom lip, and licking into any available space in your mouth, leaving you breathless. With shaky hands, you reach up to unbutton his shirt, and you’re met with no resistance from your father, so you push it over his shoulders once it’s completely undone. Dean drops your face to shrug the shirt off to the floor, and then grips you by the waist and pulls you in tighter, and then you feel it for the first time. It prods you in the thigh and you can’t help but purposefully move your leg slightly against it, making him grunt into the kiss. 

You squirm in your place at the noise and begin to undo his slacks, eager to get inside. Dean lets you, his pants dropping to his knees and he picks you up into his arms, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his bare waist. You can feel him toe off his shoes and step out of his slacks, and then he carries you over to your couch and sits down, sitting you in his lap. His erection is far more prominent now he’s only in boxers, and it presses against your core beautifully, making you whimper. You settle with your knees either side of his legs, and begin to rock your hips almost instinctively, desperate to feel him rubbing against you. His fingertips dig into your waist and he even helps your movements, groaning into your kiss. 

You leave his lips and kiss along his stubbled jaw, then down his neck to his chest. Dean reaches for your chin, gripping it and guiding your face back to his, so he can kiss you again. 

“Just like this, baby,” he croaks out, and you’re willing to do anything he says, even if you are eager to taste him. You nod and press your forehead to his, panting heavily into his slack mouth as you grind your hips down harder and faster. “There we go, just like that.” You whimper and instead run your hand down his chest towards his boxers. Dean doesn’t stop you this time, so you rub your hand over the lump at first, feeling the warmth of his body soak through the material. He’s thick and long, bigger than he’s always looked, though maybe that’s because you’re so close this time - the prospect of fitting him inside you is daunting. But you’re willing to give it a damn good go. 

Dean groans loudly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, his hands gripping your waist so tightly it should hurt, but you’re too aroused, too overcome with adrenaline to care. Your other hand reaches for one of his, and you guide it between your legs again. 

“Touch me, Daddy please, need you to touch me,” you beg with a whine. Dean lifts his head, his green eyes fluttering open and he looks down your body and smoothes his hand over the crotch of your panties. You moan instantly as his fingers nudge against your clit, and Dean chokes on a grunt, leaning forward more to wrap his mouth around your left nipple, sucking it and swirling his tongue. The sensation only turns you on more, making your eyes roll as you wrap your hand around his cock through the fabric and start to move your hand up and down like you’d seen Sam do to himself. Dean reaches up with his other hand to grip the back of your neck, and then he turns you both and lays you down on the couch, leaning over you. 

He kisses over your chest, and lifts his hand to push it underneath the lace of your panties. Your whole body tenses in anticipation of feeling his fingers against your skin for the first time, and you tighten your hold over his cock. His calloused fingertips finally graze over your bundle of nerves, and then down to your entrance, and he growls into your neck before biting on the skin. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, teasing you with his fingertips. You lift your hips to meet his touch and, without thinking about it for too long, push your hand into his boxers. You’re met with warm, soft flesh, and you wrap your hand around his length instantly, starting to work it up and down, loving the heavy feel of it in your hand. 

Dean slowly and carefully pushes one finger inside you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he moans, before biting on that same bit of sensitive skin on your neck. He sucks it this time, and it makes your eyes roll as he curls his finger inside you, and then pulls it back and teases you with a second. His thumb rubs in small circles over your clit, as he relaxes you a little more and your hand stops working his erection when he pushes the two digits inside. Once they’re fully in he lets your skin go from between his teeth, and you instantly start working your hand over him again. “So tight, princess, fuck,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you breathless. You gasp into his mouth and buck your hips desperately as you chase your high that is already rapidly approaching. “That’s it sweetheart, cum for Daddy,” he murmurs, leaning back to watch your face closely as it twists with pleasure. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum on Daddy’s fingers, gotta work you open if you want my cock.” His words are enough to tip you over the edge, because -  _ fuck -  _ you  _ do  _ want his cock, more than anything. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” you cry out, gripping his arm hard, and you both moan as you feel your climax take over. It’s the best one you’ve ever experienced, but when you come down from your high, you’re still left wanting -  _ needing _ \- more. You sit up and push on Dean’s chest to encourage him to lay back and climb between his legs, kissing over his neck and chest once more. “Wanna taste you Daddy,” you tell him breathlessly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean grunts. “Wait, wait, sweetheart,” he pants, once more gripping your face and bringing it close to his. You nip at his bottom lip playfully. 

“Please, Daddy, wanna suck your cock,” you beg quietly. 

“Fuck, trust me baby girl, I want that too but-” Dean swallows hard, “I don’t think we’re gonna get very far if you do.” 

You giggle a little at his confession and kiss him. 

“Then what do you suggest we do?” you ask seductively. “Wanna fuck my pretty little pussy?” 

“Shit.” Dean’s eyes widen as you bite your bottom lip and wait for his response. 

“C’mon, I’m so wet for you, I can take it. Such a big girl now, Daddy,” you moan. You straddle his hips again and once more grind down into his lap, smirking down at him as you grope your own chest. 

“You’ve been watching too much porn, baby, you should  _ not  _ be this confident for your first time.” He watches you work, a small smirk playing on his lips all the same. 

“I’m feeling confident,” you confess. “That dress, the way you were looking at me, the way Uncle Sammy looked at me,” you tell him with a smirk. 

“Uncle Sammy, huh?” Dean presses, his eyebrows raised slightly. 

“Don’t be jealous, Daddy,” you purr, leaning closer to his face, “only want your cock.” 

You can tell Dean is a little more tense underneath you, and you regret even bringing Sam up in the first place. You don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Only ever think about you, Daddy. Want you so much,” you continue. You grab his hand and place it between your legs once more, just to remind him how wet you are for  _ him _ . It seemed to work well earlier. 

“Has Uncle Sammy ever touched you like this, baby?” Dean asks, voice breathy, but also serious. You shake your head honestly. 

“No Daddy, only me… and now you.” 

“Fuck,” Dean groans, seemingly convinced. You grind your hips down again, and he moans louder. “Think I like you confident,” he gasps. You giggle and bite your bottom lip. 

“Must be the alcohol,” you note. You want to remind him you’re a big girl now, but once against Dean’s body stiffens underneath you.  _ Fuck -  _ maybe you should just stop talking. Dean sits up, and you wrap your arms around his neck, hoping to kiss him. 

“How much have you had, sweetheart? Be honest with me, more than the champagne I gave you?” he presses softly. You bite your lip. You want to lie, but the way his green eyes are staring at you, you can’t bring yourself to do it. 

“Only two more,” you tell him, knowing he drinks far more than that himself without being drunk. 

“What did you have?” he presses, his fingers tracing up and down your back softly. 

“Uncle Sammy said it was vodka and lemonade,” you blush. 

“Sam?” Dean presses. 

He pushes you off of his lap before you can stop him. 

“It’s okay, Daddy, I’m not drunk, I feel fine, just more confident,” you tell him honestly. Dean’s already doing up his slacks and reaching down for his shoes to pull back on his feet. He huffs a breath and shakes his head, reaching down for his shirt. “Daddy, please, I want this so badly. It’s my prom night,” you plead. 

“Sweetheart, no, we already shouldn’t have been doing this, but there’s no way I’m doing anything with you when you’ve been drinking.” He sounds adamant, much to your disappointment. 

“Please, Daddy,” you beg, giving him the eyes that  _ always  _ work. Dean looks away quickly and shakes his head. “I love you,” you try desperately. 

“And I love you, Y/N, and that’s why we’re not doing this right now.” He leans down and grips your chin, kissing you softly on the lips. “Get some sleep, okay?” 

You watch him leave your room, whilst frantically buttoning his shirt again, and you feel the disappointment swell in your stomach. You should’ve kept your stupid mouth shut about it all. Sam told you not to tell him. You just wanted to seem grown up, you never thought it would backfire like this. You’d been  _ so close.  _ And the worst part? He hadn’t even stopped it because he doesn’t want it - because he doesn’t want you. Because he does. You feel tears press at the backs of your eyes as you take a deep breath. If his only issue is that you’ve been drinking, then you decide that you’re sure as hell gonna finish what you'd started as soon as you’re sober. 


	15. Inappropriate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: seduction, arousal, dry humping, fingering, handjob, father/daughter incest, angst
> 
> Chapter WC: 2954

**_Dean’s POV_ **

  
  


“Only wore this dress so you could take it off.” Dean’s pretty sure his heart has stopped when he hears those words, and he desperately pushes away the arousal that threatens to flood his veins, telling himself to remain in control.  _ Help her out of the dress and leave,  _ he keeps telling himself, as he prompts her to turn away from him so he can reach the zip better. How his hands aren’t shaking, he doesn’t know, as he pulls the zipper down and exposes more and more skin. The side of her breast comes into view, and he notes that she’s not wearing a bra. The dress grows slack and then falls from her frame softly, revealing her bare back and  _ fuck.  _ Dean recognises those panties, remembers thinking he’d like to see them on something more than a hanger, in that lingerie shop he visited with Y/N the other week. And now here they are, hugging every curve of his baby girl’s round ass. 

Dean draws a deep breath in, and without thinking he steps closer and pulls her back into him, feeling her warm skin soak through his shirt. He lowers his mouth to the back of her neck, but resists placing a kiss there, like he so desperately wants to. He feels Y/N grab his hand and guide it from her hip to her breast, and Dean’s not even sure he’s got the willpower to stop this from happening. So he doesn’t. Instead he grasps the warm, soft flesh just a little tighter and feels how Y/N squirms a little, hearing her breathing getting that little bit harder. 

“Been thinking about this a lot.” Y/N’s voice is quiet, but the silence between them makes it seem deafening. Dean squeezes his eyes closed, desperate to stop his cock from getting hard. 

“Fuck.” He doesn’t even know he’s spoken until he hears the sound of his own voice, and he drops his forehead to rest on the back of her shoulder. “Me too, baby girl.” He was only meant to think it, but it comes out anyway, his fingers flexing just a little harder around her breast making her squirm more. 

“Want you so much, Daddy,” she whispers. Her hand reaches for his, pulling it away from her breast and guiding it down her body, over her stomach, and then Dean’s fingers feel the soft scratch of lace and his heart is ready to thump out of his chest. He’d not done too badly keeping his cock only  _ slightly  _ hard in his slacks, but the second he feels the hot, soaked material between Y/N’s legs he loses all resolution. “Feel how much I want you?” she prompts. Dean’s cock goes from stiffening to throbbing in seconds - he’s not sure it’s ever done that before, not even when he got to second base for the first time. He pulls away and desperately turns Y/N to face him, smothering her lips with his. He needs to kiss her - to taste her. He can’t hold back anymore, he’s only human after all. 

The kiss is heated and messy as she strips him of clothes, and he’s too far gone to question any of this anymore. The alcohol in his system is taking the edge off of all the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this, and Dean just wants to give in to something he’s been too afraid to admit - even to himself - something that he so  _ desperately wants.  _ He picks her up in his arms, toes off his shoes, and steps out of his slacks, and then carries her over to the couch, sitting her down on top of him. The second she begins squirming in his lap, Dean almost loses it. His mind is spinning with a deadly mix of adrenaline, arousal and alcohol, and he grips her hips and encourages her movements, needing as much friction as possible. Y/N’s kisses leave his mouth and work along his jaw and down his neck, and she begins trying to climb off of him. The very thought of her sucking him down makes Dean twitch beneath her, but he’s fairly sure he wouldn’t make it far if  _ that  _ happened right now. 

  
  


He grips her chin and encourages her to kiss him again, moaning softly into her mouth. 

“Just like that baby.” She seems to understand, and nods, grinding down harder and faster as she begins to whimper. That  _ noise,  _ it’s the best damn thing he’s ever heard. “There we go, just like that.” And then she’s  _ touching him.  _ Fuck, it shouldn’t feel this good. He shouldn’t want to slam her back on this couch and bury his cock inside her to the hilt. But he  _ does  _ want that - more than anything. But he knows he’s gotta take it easy - gotta make it special and perfect because she’s never done this before - at least he doesn’t think she has. The very thought that she has only makes him angry, so he pushes that away immediately. 

Then Dean’s pretty sure he’s lost it completely, because one minute she’s begging him to touch her, and the next he’s laying over her, two fingers inside her tight,  _ soaked  _ little pussy and her hand is inside his boxers wrapped around his cock. 

“So tight, princess, fuck,” he whispers, kissing her and watching as she writhes beneath him. The purple bruise he’s sucked into her neck is angry and dark, and his eyes fix on it for a second, as he wonders what people would think if they knew who gave that to her. “That’s it sweetheart, cum for Daddy.” He watches her, face screwed up, and he can tell from the way she clenches around him that she’s  _ so close.  _ “C’mon, sweetheart, cum on Daddy’s fingers, gotta work you open if you want my cock.” And he’s not wrong - he’s pretty sure he’d break her in two if he tried fucking her right now. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy.” Dean can’t help but moan with Y/N as she cums hard around him, and he marvels at the way her lips part and her eyes blow, and the way her chest heaves. Dean slowly pulls his fingers out once she’s stopped pulsing around them and smirks smugly to himself. 

  
  


Y/N sits up and pushes on Dean’s chest as he sits back, and she climbs to kneel between his legs, kissing over his neck and chest. 

“Wanna taste you, Daddy,” she admits against his skin. 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean grunts, the very words making his cock throb. She continues to kiss his chest, down to his torso. “Wait, wait, sweetheart,” he pants, bringing her face back to his. She smirks deliciously and then nips at his bottom lip playfully. How the fuck can he say no to her? 

“Please, Daddy, wanna suck your cock.” Despite what his body is so desperate for, Dean somehow finds the sanity to shake his head. 

“Fuck, trust me baby girl, I want that too but-” Dean swallows hard, “I don’t think we’re gonna get very far if you do.” He’s pretty sure he’d be painting her tongue white the second she closes her lips around him. She kisses him as she giggles.

“Then what do you suggest we do? Wanna fuck my pretty little pussy?” 

“Shit.” Dean’s eyes widen at the very thought. Although he’d kind of assumed and even  _ hoped  _ that was where this is going, hearing her say those words makes his mind spin. 

“C’mon, I’m so wet for you, I can take it. Such a big girl now, Daddy.” Dean’s not even sure half the girls he’s fucked have ever been this confident, and he’s about to throw all caution to the wind, and take her right there and then on this very couch - especially when she moves to straddle him again, and starts grinding down into his lap, palming at her own breasts and moaning. 

“You’ve been watching too much porn, baby, you should  _ not  _ be this confident for your first time.” He’s pretty sure this is a dream. This is one of those pornos he’s always fantasised about starring in, because she looks damn near exquisite. 

“I’m feeling confident. That dress, the way you were looking at me, the way Uncle Sammy looked at me.” Dean sees through his mind fog a little clearer for a moment at the mention of Sam. 

“Uncle Sammy, huh?” Dean presses, his eyebrows raised slightly. Why the  _ hell  _ would Sam look at her like that? But then Dean realises, he really can’t talk, because his cock is hard and throbbing underneath his little girl’s ass, and he’s about ten seconds away from ripping those panties clean off and fucking her over the back of the couch. 

“Don’t be jealous, Daddy, only want your cock.” His apprehension melts just a little at her confirmation, the jealousy that had threatened to rear its ugly head hiding away again, but he’s still slightly on edge. “Only ever think about you, Daddy. Want you so much,” she continues. She prompts him to touch her again, and he remembers just how fucking  _ wet  _ she is for him. 

But he can’t help the question on his mind from spilling out of his mouth. 

“Has Uncle Sammy ever touched you like this, baby?” Dean asks, he can’t help the breathiness of his voice, but he’s trying to ask her seriously, wanting an honest answer. 

She shakes her head, “no Daddy, only me… and now you.” 

“Fuck,” Dean groans, happy with the confirmation. He’d probably kill Sam if he’d ever touched her. She grinds down harder, and Dean starts to relax again. “Think I like you confident.”

“Must be the alcohol.” Dean can’t help but tense up at her statement.  _ Fuck - what if she’s drunk?  _ It would explain her confidence, but she doesn’t  _ seem  _ drunk, not that he’s ever witnessed Y/N drunk before. Dean sits up and she wraps her arms around his neck. 

“How much have you had, sweetheart? Be honest with me, more than the champagne I gave you?” he presses softly. His arousal is quickly draining at the very thought he’s taking advantage of her. He can’t -  _ won’t -  _ do this if she’s under the influence. She deserves better than that. 

“Only two more,” she replies. Y/N doesn’t drink, so Dean’s hyper aware that whilst three drinks might not be anything to him, it’s a lot to her. 

“What did you have?” he presses, his fingers tracing up and down her back softly, hoping to keep her relaxed, so she doesn’t think she’s in trouble and lies. 

“Uncle Sammy said it was vodka and lemonade.” Dean frowns immediately at the sound of his brother’s name again. 

  
  


“Sam?” Dean presses, pushing her away gently before getting up quickly and grabbing his slacks, pulling them back on. 

“It’s okay, Daddy, I’m not drunk, I feel fine, just more confident.” Dean doesn’t care how she feels, he can’t do this to her now. What if she doesn’t even  _ want this  _ when she’s sober?! 

He huffs a breath and shakes his head once his shoes are back on, reaching down for his shirt. “Daddy, please, I want this so badly. It’s my prom night.”

“Sweetheart, no, we already shouldn’t have been doing this, but there’s no way I’m doing anything with you when you’ve been drinking.” He leaves no room for arguments, his resolution back in full force. 

“Please, Daddy.” Dean looks away quickly when he sees that face she always pulls that makes him give in - because he can’t give in on this, no matter how much he wants to. He shakes his head. “I love you,” she adds.

“And I love you, Y/N, and that’s why we’re not doing this right now.” He doesn’t want to let her down, but he’d be letting himself and her even more so if he went ahead with this tonight. “Get some sleep, okay?” 

  
  


Dean ruffles his fingers through his hair as he leaves her room, and makes sure his shirt is buttoned enough before heading back down the stairs. He’s frustrated, partly because he didn’t get to finish what he started, but mainly because Sam had fucked it up for him. Sam liked to think he had some kind of parental say in Y/N’s life, just because he was around a little more than Dean, but he really didn’t. Sam had really crossed the line tonight, letting Y/N drink without Dean knowing about it. Dean stands in the doorway of the ballroom, and Sam lifts his eyes from Cas and looks at him. Dean gives him a hard stare and then nods his head in the direction of his office. He watches as Sam excuses himself and heads towards the door, so Dean charges ahead. 

He pours himself a drink to calm his anger as soon as he steps inside, and takes a long swig as he hears Sam step into the room and shut the door behind him. 

“Everything okay? Where’s Y/N?” Sam asks carefully. 

“She’s fine. No thanks to you,” Dean mutters, pouring another measure.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam presses. Dean turns around and glares at his brother. 

“I think you know, Sam,” Dean starts, “going behind my back like that. She might be an adult now, but she’s still too young,” Dean begins. 

“Dean, I-” Sam swallows hard. “She was curious, I just wanted to help out.”   
“You wanted to be the cool uncle, get one up on me. You’ve always gotta be better than me,” Dean snarls, “bet you think you’re a better father than me too, huh? You’re not. You’re just her uncle.” 

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam shakes his head. 

“She’s still underage, Sam,” Dean barks. 

Sam frowns slightly, “she’s eighteen, Dean.”

“Yeah, and last I checked, the drinking age is twenty one. I know I break a few laws here and there, but she’s still my little girl, and if I say she can only have one drink, that doesn’t give you the right to come along and override me.”   
“Wait - what? We’re talking about drinking?”   
“What else would we be talking about, Sammy?” Dean grunts, annoyed. Sam shakes his head quickly. 

“Dean, it’s only drinking, don’t you think you’re overreacting? We were drinking at her age.” 

“That’s not the fucking point, Sam! She’s my daughter! That’s my call not yours!” 

“Dean, listen,” Sam sighs.

“No, don’t  _ Dean listen  _ me, Sam!” Dean shouts, pointing at him. Sam draws a deep breath. 

“I lied to her, okay? It was just lemonade, I just wanted her to feel special and grown up on her prom night.” That makes Dean pause, wondering if he believes his brother or not. But why would Sam lie to him? And it does seem like something Sam would do for Y/N. He wants her to be happy whilst keeping her safe, just like Dean does. 

“So… no alcohol?” Dean presses. Sam frowns and shakes his head. 

“Why? Has something happened? Is she okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Dean grunts. Now he’s just annoyed that he had unnecessarily stopped them, wondering if he’d be inside her already if he hadn’t. But he can’t think about that too long - especially in front of Sam. Sam looks at Dean for a moment, like he’s trying to read him, so Dean turns his back on him guiltily and pours another drink. 

“What did you think I was talking about?” Dean presses, remembering how quick Sam was to apologise earlier on. 

“What? Nothing,” Sam replies instantly. Dean scoffs and holds his glass to his mouth. 

“Sounds like a guilty conscience to me, Sammy,” he notes, before taking a sip. “Y/N told me you’ve been inappropriate with her.” 

“What? What did she say I did?” Sam asks immediately. Dean purses his lips at his brother’s defensive attitude, knowing Sam feels guilty for something.

“I’ve seen how you look at her sometimes,” Dean notes casually. It’s a lie, but after what Y/N had said earlier, and Sam’s behaviour, Dean wants to judge his reaction to the statement. 

“You mean the same way you look at her?” Sam retorts. 

Dean immediately turns around to look at his brother with a frown. Sam’s staring back challengingly, and there’s some kind of silent conversation between them, that maybe they’re both as fucked up as each other.

“Don’t lay a finger on her,” Dean warns with a low growl. Sam’s face sets hard, but then he smiles sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, Dean, I’ve left her untouched for you. But I wouldn’t take too long, she’s a very curious girl, not gonna wait for you forever.” Sam turns on his heels and leaves without another word, and Dean’s left standing there speechless. 

-

Sleep doesn’t come easy to Dean that night, despite the several whiskeys he’d downed after Sam’s comment. There should be guilt in his stomach about someone else having noticed his less than natural feelings towards Y/N, but he remembers that there was no look of disgust on Sam’s face, and judging by the conversation they were having, Dean can only assume that Sam’s feelings towards her are less than natural too. Jealousy tinges Dean’s skin green at the very thought. But Y/N has never seemed interested in Sam, that Dean’s noticed at least, and he trusted her when she told him that nothing has happened between them. There’s now this unspoken fucked up understanding between the brothers about their feelings towards Y/N, and Dean’s unsure how he feels about that. But he sure as hell hopes it’s never brought up again. 

He eventually falls into an unsettled sleep and is woken a few hours later with hands on his torso and lips on his neck. He grumbles as he disturbs and sees Y/N beside him. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” Dean asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Bad dream, make me feel better, Daddy?” she purrs, rubbing her hand down his torso. There’s still just enough alcohol in his system that he gives in without a fight.

“C’mere, baby girl,” he sighs, pulling her face close to his. “Daddy’s got you.”


	16. Bad Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: kissing, seduction, father/daughter incest, thigh riding, oral sex (f&m rec), first time, mentions of porn, angst
> 
> Chapter WC: 2592

**_Your POV_ **

You lie there until you’re sure enough time has passed for you to sober up, even though you feel no different - if anything, you’re getting more high on the adrenaline, remembering the way Dean had touched you, the way he’d made you cum with his fingers inside you, and the very thought of finishing what you’ve started only keeps you uncomfortably aroused. It’s a little before 6AM when you wake from a light sleep, and decide it’s been long enough. The house is painfully quiet as you head towards your father’s bedroom, and let yourself in. The slight gap in the curtains allows some natural light to filter into the room as you make your way over to Dean’s bed, seeing him sleeping on his back in the middle of the bed. You tip toe over to him, and slowly peel back the sheet to reveal more of his body. His boxers are hanging low on his hips, and his one hand rests softly on the base of his stomach. Biting your bottom lip you carefully climb under the sheet alongside him, moving to press up close next to him. You remember doing this once or twice as a child after a bad dream, but that was then, and this is now. You reach out and bravely place your hand on his torso, and then lean in, the smell of his aftershave mixed with his natural aroma fills your nose and makes you smile. You place gentle kisses to his neck, and feel him stir beneath you. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” he croaks out, and there’s something so sexy about his half asleep voice that makes your core ache harder. You smile into the kiss you're placing on his collarbone. 

“Bad dream,” you lie, “make me feel better, Daddy?” you beg sweetly, feeling further down his body. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft beneath your fingertips as you reach down towards his boxers. For a second, you allow yourself to consider that he might reject you, but within seconds he replies. 

“C’mere, baby girl.” He grips your chin, pulling your face closer to his. “Daddy’s got you.” He kisses you breathless and rolls you both over, so you’re laying on your back and he’s hovering over you. His kisses become less lazy as he wakes up a little more, and he moves to kneel between your open legs. His hands smooth up your sides and over your chest, groping your breasts softly through your sleep shirt. 

You whimper into his mouth and your hands move down to his hips, playing with his boxers. Dean growls and grips your wrists hard, pinning them above your head quickly. You giggle as soon as he releases your lips to kiss down your neck. You start to squirm beneath him, fighting against his hold over you. You try to position yourself so that his thigh is pressing against your core, but you can’t quite reach.

“Daddy, please I need-” you stop to moan as he mouths over your nipple through your shirt. 

“What do you need, baby girl?” he teases, and you feel the smirk against your body. 

“You-” you conclude. 

“You’ve got me,” he hums, nuzzling at the side of your breast. 

“No - please, I need more,” you choke out. Dean chuckles softly and pushes his thigh up to press it between your legs. You moan softly at the contact and immediately begin to grind your hips down into his thigh bone. Dean leans back to watch you with a smirk, and you don’t even care how pathetic or desperate you might look to him now - you need this so badly. You’re already bordering the edge of your climax and you’re growing more and more desperate with each passing second for  _ more.  _

“Please, Daddy, I need more,” you beg shamelessly. To your dismay, Dean pulls his thigh away and crawls a little further down the bed and away from you.    
“So spoiled baby,” he tuts. You smirk down your body at him when he reaches for the waistband of your panties, and starts to pull them down your legs. “Fuck,” he grunts. He throws the material over his shoulder without looking, his eyes glued to between your legs. He reaches out tentatively at first, and drags his thumb through your slick, up to your clit. You buck your hips down against his touch desperately and mewl. “You still want more?” he asks, finally looking up at you. You nod desperately, gripping the sheets beneath you. “Tell me what you want,” Dean orders. Your mind is spinning, you don’t even  _ know.  _ You watch the way he licks his lips as he looks up at you and waits for your reply.  _ That.  _ That’s what you want. 

“Y-your mouth,” you stammer out, a little embarrassed. 

Dean scoffs slightly and licks his lips again. 

“You want me to taste you, baby girl? Wanna cum on Daddy’s face?” 

“Yes, fuck please, yes,” you gasp. 

“You beg so pretty, how can I say no?” he smirks, leaning down to place kisses along your thigh. They climb higher and higher, and then he settles on his stomach between your legs and pins your legs open to the bed. You struggle to suck air into your lungs at first, the anticipation making your clit throb, but then you feel his mouth on your core and automatically gasp for air. He licks a slow purposeful stripe from your opening to your clit, and moans as he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth. You instinctively reach for the back of his head, gripping his hair hard as you begin to buck against his face. 

This feeling is incredible - like nothing you’ve ever felt before as your back arches off the bed. You remember thinking the feeling of his fingers inside you was amazing, but this is even better. Your thighs begin to shake in Dean’s grasp and his eyes flicker up to watch your face closely. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy, I’m - don’t stop please, I’m gonna cum,” you squeal. Dean only licks harder and faster, swirling his tongue in every which way and driving you wild. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as he holds you there, until you’re cumming hard on his tongue and your vision goes dark around the edges. Dean lets you down gently, slowing his movements and licking softer, until eventually he stops, placing a soft kiss to your clit and then to your inner thigh. Your lungs feel like they’re on fire as you come down from your high, and Dean sits back to wipe his lips clean. 

“Feeling better?” he asks with a small smirk. You can see he’s painfully hard behind his boxers and sit up, biting your bottom lip. 

“You tasted me, now please let me taste you?” you beg sweetly, moving to kneel in front of him. “Please, Daddy?” you beg, reaching out to palm over his cock.

“Okay, okay,” he agrees, moving to sit back against the headboard. You bite your lip excitedly and reach to pull his boxers down, and Dean helps you by kicking them off the rest of the way. His cock is fully hard and resting along his stomach, dribbling precum onto his skin. You slowly reach for it, starting to feel a little nervous, because what if you get it wrong? He just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life, and yet he’s probably had a thousand orgasms with a thousand different girls. What if he realises you’re no good?

You decide it’s not an option as you reach out and wrap your hand around his hard length, and begin jerking up and down softly, thinking back to all the porn you’ve seen and how they do it. 

“Hey, Princess, you don’t have to,” Dean reassures you, reaching out to grip your arm. 

“I want to,” you tell him honestly. You lick your lips and take a deep breath, before leaning down and slowly wrapping your lips around the tip. It’s warmer and softer than you imagined, and the cum is saltier than you thought it would be. Dean gathers your hair at the back of your head to keep it out of the way, and you take him a little deeper which makes him moan. You decide he must like that, and try to take him deeper still, until he’s pressing at the back of your throat, making you gag. Dean uses his grip on your hair to ease you off a little, and you gasp for breath around him and swirl your tongue as best as you can. 

You begin sucking and bobbing your head like you’ve seen other girls do, and each moan and grunt from your father only encourages you further, until you’re sucking and swirling your tongue and working your hand over the parts of his cock you can’t fit inside. 

“Holy fuck, baby,” Dean grunts, his grip on your hair tightening, “ease up.” But you don’t want to, you can feel him practically throbbing in your mouth, and whether he realises it or not, he’s bucking his hips up softly to meet your throat. You can feel tears prick at your eyes, but you don’t let it stop you. “Baby, fuck - shit, sweetheart stop,” he groans desperately. “You’ll make me cum,” he adds breathlessly. Stopping is the last thing you want to do now, you’re so close to getting him off, you’re so close to being  _ perfect  _ for him _.  _ Dean lets out a strangled cry as he cums hot and salty down the back of your throat, and you swallow it as best as you can. 

When you pull back you wipe your mouth dry on the back of your hand and smirk at him. Dean finally opens his eyes, his chest still heaving as he looks at you. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he pants, his hand now pressed to your back. “I haven’t cum that hard in forever. Especially not from just head.”

“Was it okay?” you check immediately, biting down on your puffy bottom lip nervously. He looks at you like your question is ridiculous. But there’s also a look of contentment you’ve never seen on his face before. 

“Yeah, it was perfect, why?” he prompts, frowning slightly. 

“It was my first one, wanna make sure I did it right,” you shrug, your cheeks heating up. 

He just stares at you for a second and then scoffs. 

“I’m not sure I believe your little innocent act anymore,” he teases. 

“It was!” you giggle. 

“Mhm. Well where the  _ fuck  _ did you learn that, then?” he asks with a smirk. 

“Porn,” you shrug. Dean raises his eyebrows challengingly and you giggle harder. “Who else would I have done that with? Uncle Sam?” you laugh. Your father’s face drops to serious and he sits up quickly, grabbing his boxers from the floor.

“I’ve urm - I’ve got a meeting,” he excuses. You watch as he steps into his boxers and pulls them up. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve really gotta get ready.” He leans over the bed to kiss your cheek, before he flees into the bathroom and closes the door. You sigh, realising very quickly that bringing up your Uncle is definitely something you need to stop doing if you ever want to make it all the way with Dean. 

-

You try to not overthink what had happened that morning for the rest of the day. You’re sure Dean really was just busy, because you hadn’t seen him since, and you could only assume that he has been locked in his office all day. Even Sam hasn’t been around much today - so you’d spent most of your day hanging out alone, watching movies in the theatre room and eating junk food. The whole day has been a world away from the day before, when you had been getting pampered and excited about the prospect of losing your virginity, and even though you and Dean had done things you’d never done before that morning, you still want more. You want to experience  _ everything.  _

Eventually, once your ass is numb from having been sitting down for so long, and you feel a little sick from all the shit you’ve been eating, you get up and stretch, deciding to go for a swim before bed like usual. You head to your bedroom the long way, so that you can pass your father’s office. You don’t want to disturb him or anything, but you do just want to hear his voice. The hallway is quiet, there’s no men standing in the hall, and there’s no chatter from Dean’s office. The door is closed which isn’t unusual, but it’s so quiet you can’t hear typing, or the familiar sound of him tapping his foot on his desk. You try the handle but the door is locked, so you assume he’s not in there. 

You step away and bite your lip thoughtfully as you head up the stairs. Maybe he’s in his room. But once again, the room is silent and when you open the door, it’s clear it’s empty. You frown slightly and close the door behind you, stepping back towards your bedroom as you wonder where he could be. He could be out for a business dinner, or maybe just somewhere else in the house - it is a large house, it’s very easy to miss each other in it. You try not to over think it as you get dressed into your bikini and wrap your robe around yourself to head to the pool. 

As you descend the stairs you see Uncle Sam walking towards you, his tie loose around his shoulders and his shirt unbuttoned a little. His hair looks a little wild, like he’s run his fingers through it. 

“Hey, sweetheart, haven’t seen you today, everything okay?” Sam asks as you approach him. 

“Yeah, fine, just going for a swim. Have you urm, seen Daddy?” Sam frowns slightly and licks his lips. 

“He didn’t tell you?” Sam asks, “he’s gone out of town for a few days, last minute business meeting.” 

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say as you feel the disappointment settle in that you won’t be seeing him for a few days. You play with the belt on your robe anxiously. You feel your robe start to loosen and then fall open, revealing you in your bikini, but you’re not bothered about it. It’s a bikini, it’s nothing Sam’s not seen before.

  
  


“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t we spend the day together tomorrow? Go get massages,” Sam offers after a moment’s silence. You glance up at him and give him a soft smile, nodding your head.

“That sounds good,” you agree. Sam smiles warmly at you and reaches out to place his hand on your shoulder, his fingers slipping just under the material of your robe. 

“Great, I can’t wait,” he smirks. “Going for a swim?” he adds, nodding at your attire.

“Yeah, the usual.” 

“Want company?” he asks. You shrug a shoulder, not sure if you want to be alone or not. You want to wallow in self-pity that Dean’s away, but you also want to take your mind off of it by spending time with Sam. “Let me get changed, and I’ll join you. Could do with a wind down after the day I’ve had.” He flashes you a wink, and steps past you, towards the stairs and you turn your head to watch him with a soft smile. Somehow, Uncle Sam always knows how to make you feel a little better. 


	17. Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: inappropriate feelings, angst, seduction, manipulation, amateur pornography, nudes, male masturbation
> 
> Chapter WC: 2273

**_Sam’s POV_ **

  
  


Sam didn’t sleep all night. He lay there and thought about how he’d, in as many words, confessed to having inappropriate feelings for Y/N. Luckily, he’s fairly sure he was able to turn it around onto Dean. Dean didn’t even deny it - though they both knew he couldn’t. Sam knows Dean well enough to know that he’s going to feel too guilty about his own feelings to get caught up on Sam’s. Sam had never intended to drop his act of ignorance, knowing Dean would be far more likely to give in if he didn’t think anyone else was aware of it, but Sam had to shift the attention off of him. Now he just needs to make sure Y/N is distracting enough. He’s down at breakfast his usual time, but he doesn’t see Dean or Y/N for that matter, even though she never normally misses breakfast. He tries not to think too much of it as he finishes up eating and heads towards his office. 

As Sam makes his way past Dean’s office, he glances in to see Dean packing his briefcase.

“Everything okay?” Sam asks carefully, stopping in Dean’s doorway. Dean glances up at him.

“What?” he grunts, “oh, yeah, just heading out of town for a few days,” he shrugs. Sam frowns slightly and heads further into the room. 

“Didn’t know you had anything planned,” he presses. Dean barely looks at Sam as he heads towards the safe in his office and opens it, pulling out a couple of guns and a wad of cash.

“Last minute thing,” Dean brushes off, packing everything into his briefcase except one gun, which he tucks down the back of his slacks waistband.

“What’s going on, Dean?” Sam asks more urgently. 

“What? Nothing, why does something have to be going on? I’m just heading out of town, that’s all. Gonna check on the warehouse in Indiana.” 

Sam can tell that Dean’s flustered - something has spooked him. 

“Well when are you gonna be back?” 

“Urm, a few days,” Dean tells him, shutting his briefcase with a click. 

“If there’s something I need to know about - cops showing up, or trouble-”   
“No, nothing like that, Sam. Don’t worry about it.” Sam decides to try a different approach once he realises that whatever is bothering Dean probably isn’t business related. 

“You seen Y/N this morning? She wasn’t at breakfast,” Sam comments casually, watching Dean’s body language carefully. Dean stiffens, and he plays with the handle of his case for a second. 

“Nope, I’m sure she’s fine. I’ve gotta go, hold down the fort for me while I’m gone.” Dean pulls his briefcase off of the desk and is out of the door before Sam can say anything else. 

Sam watches him go, and then a tiny smirk plays on his lips. Dean’s flustered because of Y/N. He’d put money on something happening between them - something good, that Dean now feels guilty about. He really hopes that Dean’s reaction hasn’t scared Y/N away, though. Whatever went on between them, she can’t let that fizzle out, she needs to keep pushing whilst she can. But then a more pressing matter comes to mind. Dean’s left Sam in his office alone. Dean’s never explicitly told Sam he can’t go into his office, but they’ve always had a somewhat unspoken agreement between them, that they didn’t invade each other’s spaces alone. Considering the amount of staff that wandered around the house regularly, and the amount of incriminating evidence that could be found in both their offices, the brothers have always been careful to lock the doors and not let anyone in there without company. 

Sam glances towards the door again, to make sure Dean isn’t going to return when he realises the error he’s made, and sits in Dean’s office chair, before opening drawers and rummaging through them. He isn’t met with anything that interesting. There’s a bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer - Sam assumes it’s Dean’s emergency stash for when his decanter gets low - a few small bags of pills, condoms littered through boring legitimate paperwork - but nothing too out of the ordinary, and Sam assumes it’s in case of unexpected raids. Sam himself keeps his office fairly clean when it comes to what they do. Most of the more incriminating stuff can be found in hidden folders on their laptops. Which of course, Dean’s taken with him. Sam sighs and decides to give up, standing up and heading for the door. He just wants to know if Dean is still considering Crowley’s offer - he needs to know how much time he has left before he has to take even more drastic measures than before. 

Sam takes the key out of Dean’s door and uses it to lock it behind him, pushing it into his pocket as he continues to head for his own office. Once inside he takes a seat and loads his laptop, getting to work on moving some money around to keep things legitimate. He calls the warehouse in New York after a little while, and talks to Garth about the shipments due in over the coming weeks. 

“And we’re not receiving a higher volume than normal?” Sam checks.

“No, sir, not that I’m aware of,” Garth replies brightly. Sam sighs, slightly relieved at that confirmation. As far as he’s aware, Dean’s business proposal with Crowley had always been a trade deal, no money involved - at least from their end. And if they’re not getting a higher volume of goods in over the next few weeks, and nothing else has passed Sam’s desk regarding the trade, Sam feels he’s safe to assume they haven’t finished negotiating yet - so he’s still got time. How much time, he can’t be sure. 

-

It’s rather late when Sam finally pulls himself out of his office. His tie hangs loosely over his shoulders from when he’d pulled it apart an hour or two before, and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, and then notices Y/N heading down the stairs in just her robe. If he wasn’t so stressed he’d have realised it was getting close to the time that Y/N usually takes her nightly swim, and he could’ve stayed in his office and relieved some stress. Typical. 

“Hey, sweetheart, haven’t seen you today, everything okay?” Sam asks as she gets closer. 

“Yeah, fine, just going for a swim. Have you urm, seen Daddy?” She asks. Sam frowns slightly and licks his lips, feigning ignorance to the very reason Dean’s fled the city. 

“He didn’t tell you?” Sam asks, “he’s gone out of town for a few days, last minute business meeting.” 

“Oh.” 

Sam can see she’s disappointed as she plays with the belt on her robe, and he watches as it starts to loosen and reveal more and more skin, until he sees the bikini she’s wearing wrapping around her frame. He swallows down the urge to comment on it, deciding instead, that they need some quality time together. 

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t we spend the day together tomorrow? Go get massages,” Sam offers after a moment’s silence. 

“That sounds good,” Y/N agrees with a soft smile. Sam smiles warmly at her, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder, ensuring there’s skin on skin contact. 

“Great, I can’t wait,” he smirks. “Going for a swim?”

“Yeah, the usual.” 

“Want company?” He watches her shrug, hoping she’ll say yes, but if she doesn’t, he can always go back to his office for a bit. He decides he’s not going to let her think about it too much, and decides for her. As much as he’d love a little stress relief, seeing her up close and personal in that bikini some more is definitely his preference. “Let me get changed, and I’ll join you. Could do with a wind down after the day I’ve had.” He winks at her and then heads towards the stairs, happy to see the smile that spreads over her face when she realises he’s going to be joining her.

-

“And you don’t know when he’ll be back?” Y/N prompts as they make their way home from the spa they’d spent the day at. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t,” Sam sighs, pulling the corner of his lip into a tight smile. She nods, clearly disappointed.

“It’s okay, thanks for a great day, anyway. I really needed that,” she tells him softly. He smiles brightly at her.

“Me too,” he nods. He feels his jeans tighten just a little at the very reminder of the way Y/N looked in her tiny red bikini at the spa all day. The massage had helped relieve him of some stresses, but he knew he wouldn’t be fully relieved until he was alone in his room later tonight. “He’ll be back soon, sweetheart. He misses you when he goes away,” Sam comments. Y/N crinkles her nose slightly, like she doesn’t believe him and Sam stays quiet, until the car is pulling up to the house and they get out and head inside. 

Sam waits until they’re alone and out of earshot of servers, which is when they’re climbing the stairs, before he speaks again. 

“Maybe you just need to remind him exactly what he’s missing,” he tells her quietly. She looks at him and a deep blush stains her cheeks for a moment.

“You mean like… photos?” she presses hesitantly. Sam smirks and shrugs one shoulder. 

“That would certainly get my attention,” he replies casually. 

“I urm, I tried taking some when you suggested it before, but I didn’t like them,” she confesses with a blush. 

“What was wrong with them?” he asks, “I bet you looked gorgeous.” She shakes her head. 

“I got too scared to send them to him.” Sam nods his head in understanding, and bites his bottom lip for a moment.

“Well, if you ever want a second opinion before you send them, you can always ask me.” 

Y/N bites her lip thoughtfully for a moment and then says, “you don’t mind?” Sam wants to scoff and tell her that he  _ wants  _ to see them, but he decides to keep up the helpful ruse.

“Of course not, sweetheart, whatever I can do to help, you know I’ll do anything for you.” He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder lovingly. 

“Thanks, Uncle Sammy.” She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and then says goodnight, before heading into her bedroom. Sam stares at her bedroom door for a moment, wondering what those photos look like and feeling a slight twinge of jealousy that Dean gets to be  _ so close  _ to that and he doesn’t. He turns and heads towards his own bedroom, and lets himself inside, shrugging off his plaid shirt and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He throws both items down onto his couch and heads toward the bar to pour himself a drink. He takes a swig of whiskey, reaching into his pocket for his cell when it buzzes. It’s most likely Dean checking in on Y/N like he often does on the nights when he’s away. 

Sam’s pleasantly surprised to see it’s Y/N, and takes another sip of the drink as he opens the message. The glass slips from his fingers and shatters into pieces on the glass counter below him, and Sam’s eyes peel themselves off of his phone screen for a split second as he looks to see the mess he’s made. His attention immediately returns to his phone as he heads into his bathroom for a towel to clean up the spilt drink, but his mind is definitely on the photo of Y/N filling his screen. She’s got her bikini top pulled to one side, nipples erect and on show, and she’s biting her bottom lip that’s just in shot, her bikini bottoms hanging low on her hips. 

**_Think he’d like this?_ ** She’s put as the caption, and Sam swallows hard and blindly dabs around the area he dropped his drink as he feels his pants tightening. His hands are practically shaking as he finally finds the sanity to reply.

**_< I think he’d love that. But I feel like you could get even more of his attention… don’t you? _ **

He focuses back on the photo again, but then decides to give his attention to cleaning up the mess, so he doesn’t hurt himself on a piece of glass. It doesn’t take him long to collect all the pieces and mop up the whiskey, and as he’s grabbing a new glass to fill, his phone goes off again. He’s prepared this time, putting the glass down before he opens the message, and sees another photo. She’s fully naked this time, sitting on the floor in her closet in front of her mirror and she’s leaning back on her arm, her legs bent at the knee and open, showing off her pretty little pussy, and Sam’s already tearing into his jeans before he even realises it. His cock is  _ throbbing  _ now. 

**_< Fuck, sweetheart. If that doesn’t get his attention I don’t know what will. And if he doesn’t appreciate it, I sure as hell do ;)_ **

He doesn’t even care how forward his message seems, his arousal is fogging his judgement as he moves over to his bed and sits back, fisting his rock hard cock free, and reloading the photo of Y/N, wanting nothing more than to sink his cock into her tight little cunt like Dean should’ve done already. 


	18. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: smut, blowjob, drug use, nudes, inappropriate feelings, father/daughter incest mentioned, angst, H2H 
> 
> Chapter WC: 2041

**_Dean’s POV_ **

  
  


“Jesus, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles, reaching under his desk to twist his fingers through soft blonde curls, “there we go, that’s it.” He feels her take him deeper, his tip pressed right at the back of her throat as she gags slightly. Dean hums as his free hand reaches to use his laptop again. He tries to focus on the files Cas has sent over, but his mind is elsewhere - not even with the girl under the desk with his cock in her mouth - his mind is on Y/N,  _ again.  _ Dean’s grip tightens in her hair, and he pushes her down when she tries to retreat. Her fingernails dig softly into the flesh on the tops of his thighs and he grunts again. She pulls him out of her mouth completely, and Dean feels her wrap a hand around his length. 

“Give me more?” she begs from under the desk. Dean sighs and reaches for the small bag alongside his laptop. He leans back in his chair and looks down at her. Her lipstick is diluted, staining her chin and her hair is wild where his fingers have been. 

She bites her bottom lip and smirks up at him, and Dean tips some of the powder out onto the top of his thigh. She hums happily and leans forward, and Dean returns his attention to his laptop as she inhales the powder, and then returns to sucking him down. Eventually, Dean will give up doing any work and fuck her over the desk, but he’s not ready yet. His cell buzzes alongside him, and he glances to see that he’s got a message from Y/N. He almost ignores it, a tiny twist of guilt pinching his stomach, more so because of the way he left without saying goodbye, rather than  _ why  _ he left. He sighs softly and reaches for his cell, opening the message to see nipple. 

“Fucking hell,” Dean grunts, dropping his cell on accident. The blonde under the desk giggles, and Dean lets her assume his exclamation was her doing, as he shakily grabs his phone once more and stares at the screen. For a second he doesn’t quite believe it’s Y/N. But he'd recognise those lips anywhere, and he can tell from what little surroundings he can make out that she’s in her closet. He’s seen her breasts before - how can he forget? - and there’s no mistaking once the initial shock has worn off that it’s her. 

**_Miss you Daddy xxxx_ **

Dean swallows hard and feels himself throb in the blonde’s mouth. She laps at the underside of his tip and sucks on it harder, as Dean groans softly under his breath. Fuck, he shouldn’t be encouraging this. He has to say something. But before he can get his thoughts straight to reply, she sends another one. 

**_Please come home xxxx_ **

“Jesus Christ,” Dean grunts. The blonde girl he’s forgotten is even there moans around him and he glances to his lap and frowns slightly, knowing she won’t see it. His eyes fix back on the photo of Y/N sitting on the floor, completely naked with her legs spread, and he feels his heartbeat increasing. He should not be so close to coming undone, but he blames the sub-par blowjob for that. 

All he can think about as he feels a tongue swirl around his length, is the way that Y/N sucked him down, the way that she swirled her tongue and the slurping noises she made, and then as he stares at the photo on his phone he remembers the way she tasted, the way she squirmed beneath him. 

Dean pushes back in his chair and his cock slaps against his stomach, spit sodden and throbbing and the blonde frowns in confusion for a second, before reaching up to wipe her lips dry.    
“Everything okay?” she checks.

“I’ve urm - something’s come up,” Dean excuses, clearing his throat. He can  _ not  _ cum in some other girls mouth whilst staring at a naked photo of his daughter. 

“Yeah that’s what I’m trying to help with,” she purrs with a smirk. Dean attempts to laugh at her joke, but it’s forced. 

“You’re gonna have to leave, I’m sorry,” he tells her plainly. He starts putting himself away in his slacks and doing them up, and she climbs out from under the table to her feet, straightening her dress.

“One for the road?” she asks, biting her bottom lip. Dean leans forward and grips the bag, throwing it towards her. She gives him a wide smile. “Thanks, see ya around,” she winks, and then turns and leaves. 

Dean scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath. His phone is sitting on his desk, still open on the photo and he can’t help but glance at it again. But he has to say something, what if she carries on doing this? Grabbing his cell, he takes a deep breath and types out a message, but then deletes it, knowing he needs to actually talk to her about this. He calls her number and isn’t surprised at how quickly she picks up. 

“Hey Daddy,” she purrs the second she’s answered. “Miss you so much,” she adds. Dean swallows and closes his eyes. He lets out a heavy exhale and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Y/N, baby girl-” he starts, only to be interrupted by Y/N. 

“When are you coming home?” she asks, “you left without saying goodbye.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, listen - those photos-”

“Did you like them?” she asks immediately. 

Dean swallows down the answer  _ yes,  _ and refocuses on the task at hand. 

“Baby girl, it’s inappropriate, you can’t send me photos like that.”   
“Why not? You’ve seen it all before, keep thinking about the way you ate me out.” 

“Jesus, Y/N, stop,” Dean warns with a growl. The very reminder stops his cock from softening, but at the same time, the guilt weighs heavier inside him. 

“Just wanted to remind you what you were missing,” she sighs. 

“Okay, listen to me sweetheart,” Dean sighs, sitting forward and resting his head in his hand. “What we did - that can’t happen again, okay? It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and Dean feels  _ awful  _ that he had to say anything, but he can’t let this continue - he knows that when he’s not around her. It’s when he’s with her his resolve crumbles. 

“Baby girl?” he prompts. 

“Was it bad?” she finally asks. 

“What?” 

“The blowjob, is it because I was bad?” she whispers. 

“What? No, baby no, it’s not that. You weren’t bad, trust me, it’s just -” Dean struggles, “we shouldn’t do things like that.”   
“But I want to.” Dean wants to say  _ me too,  _ but he knows that’ll only make things worse, so he bites his tongue. 

“I know you do, sweetheart, but we can’t.” 

She stays quiet for another moment and Dean feels like taking it all back. He hates upsetting her, he hates letting her down. 

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she whispers, “I know I’m not like those other girls.”   
“Hey, listen to me baby, I don’t want you to be like those other girls, you hear me?” he tells her adamantly. 

“But they’re good enough for you, I’m not,” she sniffles. Dean feels sick as he listens to her begin to softly cry. He swallows hard, and draws a deep breath, wondering what he can do to make it up to her. 

“Tell you what, sweetheart, why don’t I come home tomorrow morning? I’ve got a surprise for you.” He waits for the sound of her crying to stop, and it does just a little. “Yeah?” he prompts her. 

“Okay,” she agrees quietly. 

“Okay, get some sleep, Princess, I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I want you to pack some nice clothes.” 

“Okay, night Daddy,” she sniffles.    
“Goodnight, sweetheart, I love you. Sweet dreams.” He smiles when she says she loves him too and then hangs up, and Dean takes a deep breath, scrolling through his contacts to call Cas, and get him to arrange some last minute plans.

  
  


-

  
  


Y/N has been quiet all morning as they drive towards the airport. She looks out of the window of the car and her eyes follow things as they pass. Dean chews on his bottom lip anxiously, wondering what he can say or do to make Y/N feel better again. He wants to tell her the truth; that she’s so much more than those girls and always will be. But he can’t give her the wrong impression when he’s trying so hard to stop her wanting him in that way. It starts off innocent enough when Dean reaches across and places his hand atop Y/N’s thigh, but it quickly morphs into something more as he squeezes her leg gently, and he thinks about the way her cunt feels around his fingers.

“Are you okay, baby girl?” His question comes out a little breathier than he was hoping it to, and Y/N finally looks over at him and then down at his hand. A small smile spreads over her mouth as she nods. 

“Yeah, are you going to tell me what the surprise is yet?” she asks. Dean chuckles softly and shakes his head. 

“Not yet.” She pouts playfully and then looks out of the window again. 

Dean tries to slip his hand away but Y/N’s lands on top of it and stops him. Gripping it, she only guides it higher up her leg. Dean glances to make sure Clive still has the partition up - which he does - and Y/N looks in that direction too, a small smirk playing on her lips before she takes her attention back outside, and Dean's hand stays firmly there the rest of the way to the airport. 

  
  


Y/N seems in slightly higher spirits as they board the jet, and she beams across at him from the opposite seat.

“Can I know yet?” she asks excitedly. Dean chuckles again. 

“Patience, baby girl, it’ll be worth it, I promise.” Y/N bites her bottom lip and nods her head, glancing out of the window eagerly. Finally, Y/N is smiling, and it makes Dean happy to see her like this. 

-

  
  


“What do you think?” Dean presses as he steps out onto the balcony. Y/N turns around and beams at him.

“I love it so much, thank you, Daddy,” she squeals, reaching up to kiss his lips. Dean’s taken aback by the kiss, but luckily she pulls away and spins around to look at the view of the Eiffel Tower again before she can realise he didn’t reciprocate. 

“Promised you I’d bring you to Paris, didn’t I?” Dean smirks. He’s secretly pretty proud of himself that he was able to keep the promise. He always has the best intentions, but he knows he’s let her down so many times before, so he can’t blame her for not believing him. He watches her eyes sparkle in the glow of the evening sun as they take in the scenery, and then her smile slowly begins to fade. “Everything okay?” he checks. 

Her face is completely stoic now, and she bites down on her bottom lip thoughtfully more than anything. 

“Do you have business here?” she asks quietly. Dean frowns for a second and then he realises  _ exactly _ what she’s asking him. His stomach twists, and he reaches out to grip her shoulder. 

“Hey, look at me,” he demands softly, turning her body to face him. “Baby girl, listen to me, I know that work gets in the way of my plans and promises a lot, and I know it might seem like I constantly let you down. But I want you to know that you are the most important thing in my entire world, okay?” She stays quiet, and Dean licks his lips and draws a deep breath. “No, there’s no business in Paris, in fact -” Dean takes his cell phone out of his pocket and presses the off button. “I’m turning it off. Just me and you for four whole days, okay Princess?” he presses. She smiles at that and nods her head. “Alright, so what do you want to do first?”


	19. Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags: fluff, angst, father/daughter incest, kissing, handjob, fem oral sex, fingering, protected sex, p in v, loss of virginity, first time, orgasms
> 
> Chapter WC: 3454

**_Your POV_ **

You’ve never realised how much more carefree Dean is without work weighing him down, and you assume being in a city where no one really knows who he is, is helping him feel less uptight. There’s less threat here. It’s unusual for him to be wearing something other than a suit or sweatpants - there’s not usually any middle ground when it comes to his wardrobe - but today he’s wearing jeans and a henley, and you can’t help but note how gorgeous he looks. He’s let a little more stubble grow over the couple of days you’ve been in Paris, and it suits him. Apart from one quick call to Sam, telling him that he was going off-grid, Dean has kept his promise of no business, and you’re basking in the undivided attention. 

The air is warm, but not quite as sticky as it is at home, and the breeze is light and welcoming as you both sit back on a picnic rug, and admire the Eiffel Tower ahead of you. You’d stopped by a local bakery to get some fresh pastries and you had slowly made your way through them as the afternoon went on. You’d already done some sightseeing - visited some art galleries and been to the top of the tower - so you’re enjoying the relaxing time. Dean had arranged for you to both have massages the night before, so you are now feeling well and truly content. 

“I wanna stay here forever,” you sigh happily, looking out at the view. Dean glances at you and smiles softly. 

“We can come back again,” he promises, and although he’s kept one or two of those recently, you’re not hopeful he’ll keep this one. Still, you don’t let on that you don’t believe him. 

After a little while longer, you and Dean pack up the picnic supplies and make the short walk through the quaint town to your hotel room. It’s quiet between you, but you like it. As you approach the door, Dean stops.

“I’m gonna go back into the town for a couple of hours,” he tells you. Your heart sinks. You should’ve known it was too good to be true, that he couldn’t last the entire four days away from work. Either that, or he’s going out to find some slut to fuck. It would really be no surprise to anyone that he’s addicted to work and sex. He must notice your disappointment because he quickly reaches for your face and cups it in his hands. 

“Just trust me, okay? Why don’t you start getting ready for dinner? I’m going to take you to the best restaurant in town,” he winks. You shouldn’t be shocked that Dean’s trying to soften the blow by spending money on you, but there’s still an ache in your stomach that you’ve grown used to over the years. 

“Okay, Daddy,” you nod. Dean flashes you another wink, and you’re surprised to feel him kiss your lips softly, before he turns on his heels and heads back down the long hallway to the elevator. 

You try to stop yourself crying, feeling like an idiot as you close the door softly behind you and head towards your bedroom. You can’t help but feel let down, but you don’t want it to ruin the rest of your time in Paris, considering you’re leaving the next day, so you try to suck it up, unzipping the bag to one of the dresses Dean had bought you on your shopping trip two days before. You settle on wearing it, and begin building your outfit around it to match, picking out shoes and accessories, and then you set to work on doing your hair and make up as good as you can get it. It takes a surprising amount of time for you to get ready, and you hear Dean entering his bedroom next door as you’re climbing into your dress. 

You’re surprised to see Dean’s already suited up, standing on the balcony and looking out at the view with a glass of whiskey, when you finally emerge from your bedroom ready to leave. He turns around when he hears you behind him and beams brightly.

“Wow, baby girl, you look beautiful.” You smile, genuinely despite your upset, and note how even though you were appreciating his casual attire only earlier that day, there’s something about his suit tonight that looks even better. “Are you ready to go?” he asks. You nod your head softly and he smiles, stepping forward and looping his arm for you to link. 

Given the hotel’s prime location, it’s a short walk to the restaurant, and the night air is pleasant enough that the walk is welcomed. As soon as you step inside the restaurant, you hear soft piano music and a waiter steps up to greet you. 

"Monsieur, Mademoiselle,” he nods.

“Table booked for Winchester,” Dean tells him. 

“Of course, Monsieur, follow me,” he smiles softly. “Special occasion?” he asks, beginning to lead you into the quiet restaurant. 

“Yeah,” Dean offers, smirking over at you. You suppose, this trip  _ is  _ one of your eighteenth birthday presents, so you go along with it. You’re led to the back of the restaurant, the table that’s been set up is laiden with rose petals and candles, and there’s an ice bucket stood by the side. Another waiter approaches, and the first turns to him and smiles.

“Please get champagne on the house for the happy couple.” Your mouth drops open at his words, and you feel yourself blush, but you don’t say anything and neither does Dean as you take your places. 

You’re left alone to settle into your seats, and Dean chuckles softly to himself when the bottle arrives and is placed in ice once your glasses have been filled. 

“Free drink, score,” Dean smirks, looking down at his menu. You smirk, unable to stop your stomach from flipping at the very idea that you’ve been mistaken as a couple. 

“Don’t go crazy, sweetheart,” Dean warns, as you grab your glass. 

“Actually, the legal drinking age here is eighteen,” you reply with a smirk. 

“I’m still your father, and I’m telling you to go easy,” he warns, but a small smile plays on his lips. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you reply with a slight purr, before taking a sip. 

The meal is pleasant, and you’ve almost forgotten all about being upset earlier on, especially when the waiter notes that you and Dean make  _ a beautiful couple;  _ something you don’t stop giggling at for quite some time. Once again, Dean doesn’t correct him, but he does seem a little flustered for a few moments afterwards, until he clears his throat.

“So I have some news,” he tells you, linking his fingers together in his lap. 

“Oh?” you pry. 

“So whilst I was out earlier, I did a little shopping, and I was just going to buy the penthouse suite of the hotel, but with a little negotiating I was able to buy the whole place.” You just stare at him for a moment, still getting your head around his words. “I got lucky, owners were looking to sell anyway,” he adds with a nonchalant shrug. “What do you think?” 

You’re speechless. Maybe if Dean had just bought the suite you’re staying in, there wouldn’t be this crushing feeling of betrayal. He’d  _ promised  _ you no business this trip, and yet he’d gone against that and bought an entire freaking hotel. Property and hotels were the family business, so  _ of course  _ this is about that. You feel so stupid to even think your wokaholic of a father would ever be able to stay away from business for a few days. You try to blink the tears away as you place your napkin down on the table and stand up. 

“I need the bathroom,” you mumble, barely able to look at him. Dean has broken a lot of promises in your lifetime, but for some reason this one has hurt the most. You hold your hand over your mouth, like you’re hoping to keep the sobs in, as you quickly exit the restaurant and try to remember your way back to the hotel. 

You finally let yourself cry when you’re alone in the elevator and it’s taking you up to your room, and you start full on sobbing as soon as you’re inside. You step out onto the balcony and try to calm your mind with deep breaths of fresh air, whilst taking in the view, but it seems tainted to know that this very building is about to be Dean’s. A very reminder of the promise he broke. 

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?” Dean gasps as soon as he gets inside. You don’t turn around to look at him as you sniffle. 

“You promised me no business,” you sob. “I just wanted time with you without work getting in the way.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” Dean sighs. You shake your head. 

“You promised me, Dad. You promised no work, and you bought an entire freaking hotel!” 

You turn around to face him, and the second he sees your face, Dean frowns and looks down to his feet. 

“What do I have to do to make you want me?” you ask, reaching up to wipe your face dry. “I tried being like those other girls. But it still wasn’t enough. Is it because I'm not good enough? I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to get more experience. I was meant to lose it on prom night. To  _ you. _ ” Dean frowns and looks up at you again.

“Lose what?” he asks.

“My virginity, you know - like in the movies. Every girl loses her virginity at prom," you feel your cheeks heat up. Dean looks away, a blush staining his own cheeks, and shakes his head. 

"Yeah to the teenage boy she's dating, not her own father, Y/N," he almost grunts. 

"I don't care about that. I want you. My whole life you've put work and other girls before me. All I want to do is love you, and I want you more than anything else. I just want you to want me back. What have I gotta do to get you to want me too?" 

You start sobbing again. You’ve never said any of this out loud to anyone, especially not Dean. He steps up to you and pulls you into him, holding you tightly.

"You think I don't want you, baby girl? That what you think?" he sighs. 

“You put everything before me,” you whisper. 

“Nothing comes before you, sweetheart,  _ nothing.  _ Everything I do is for you. I bought this hotel  _ for you,  _ because I know you love the view, and I want you to have somewhere to stay whenever you come back here. It’s got nothing to do with business, I promise you,” he soothes. You look up at him through wet lashes.

“Really?” you check. He nods and offers you a soft smile. 

“And as for prom night -” he stops and sighs, shaking his head. He steps back, muttering  _ fuck  _ under his breath. 

“I wanted to, okay? More than anything - I still do. But you’d been drinking, and - we  _ can’t,”  _ he concludes. You shake your head, not wanting to hear it. 

“I want it so much, please, Daddy, don’t want it to be anyone else.” 

“Stop, Y/N, please… just  _ stop,”  _ he begs. You can see his resolve breaking, and so you step closer to him once more, reaching out to grip his waist. Dean sighs, turning his head away, and you bite your lip and look up at him. He glances at you quickly and sighs, then turns his head and leans down, kissing you passionately. You’re taken by surprise for a second, but kiss back quickly, feeling him pull you closer, his tongue pushing into your mouth. He reaches up to start pulling on the zip of your dress, pulling back and panting heavily. 

“I want you more than anything, baby girl.” 

You pull him closer again, by the back of the neck and kiss him more passionately still. Dean reaches up and wraps his hand around the side of your neck, pressing his thumb under your chin to keep your face there, and then his other hand pushes into the loosened material of your dress, encouraging it to fall off of your shoulders and down your arms. You drop your hands so the dress falls off and to the floor at your feet, and then reach up to tug his tie loose. You’re eager to get naked - to get  _ him  _ naked - not wanting another interruption, or for him to change his mind again. He helps you remove his tie and then works on unbuttoning his own shirt. As soon as he pulls back, his eyes roam your body and he hums. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” he growls, shrugging his shirt off eagerly and reaching for you once more. 

You feel hands grip at the backs of your thighs, and you take the prompt to jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. Dean starts to walk towards your bedroom, as you kiss across his jawline and down his neck. You giggle as he throws you to the bed, and you land on it with a soft thud. Dean eagerly starts undoing his slacks, pushing them down his legs and stepping out of them and his shoes and socks, before climbing up the bed and over you. You smooth your hands up his chest and wrap them around his neck, kissing him again as you feel him lower his weight down over you, his crotch rubbing against yours through two thin layers of fabric, and you feel as he begins to get hard. Dean grunts, groping your chest, and then moving his hand further down your body towards your hip, then his fingers hook into the lace of your panties and he starts to tug. 

Sitting back on his heels between your legs, Dean grips the other side of your panties, pulling them down easier and then throwing them carelessly behind him. 

“Jesus, sweetheart, just look at you,” he growls, dropping his head to the inside of your thigh, placing lazy kisses there, and trailing them up to your centre. You whimper the closer he gets, and your hands fist the bed sheets beneath you tightly in anticipation. His mouth finally closes around your clit and he sucks softly, before letting it go and licking in long purposeful strips from your opening to your clit. You instantly start moaning, throwing your head back and arching your back. 

“Fuck, Daddy, please, please I need you so bad,” you start to beg. You can’t wait any longer. You are so  _ desperate.  _

Dean kisses his way up your body and then his lips are on yours hot and heavy, and you can taste the slight tang of your own arousal on his tongue. You eagerly reach between you and push your hand into his boxers, wrapping it around his hardening length, and Dean’s fingers start nudging at your entrance, pushing one inside and curling it, making you whimper into his mouth. He pulls back slightly and adds a second, and you mewl louder this time, making him pull them out just a little. 

“Fuck, Daddy, need more,” you beg. He’s fully hard now, and you rub your thumb over the ridge of his head, quickly learning he likes that when he moans against your cheek, so you do it again. You can feel a third finger press against your opening, but Dean hesitates. 

“You ever fucked yourself with that dildo you bought?” he asks lowly. 

Biting your lip you shake your head. 

“Wouldn’t fit, need you to show me how,” you purr. Dean scoffs and nips playfully at your neck. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna be tight,” he growls. You giggle softly, and nod your head in agreement. “Wait here,” he instructs, pulling back completely and climbing off of the bed. 

“Daddy?” you question, sitting up on your elbows. What if he’s changing his mind?

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he reassures you with a warm smile. “Keep touching that pussy for me,” he orders. You nod your head in understanding and smooth a hand between your legs, feeling just how wet you are and teasing your entrance with your fingers. Two slide inside fairly easily thanks to Dean working you open, and you eagerly watch the door for him to return. 

You feel a sense of relief wash over you when he does, and he stands at the edge of the bed and pushes his boxers down his legs, before tearing into the condom package with his teeth. Nerves and excitement dance around your stomach as you watch, knowing that this is really going to happen this time. Dean climbs back on the bed and carefully positions himself between your legs. 

“Are you ready?” he checks softly. You bite your lip and nod gently, feeling a little nervous. But he kisses that feeling away, and then reaches between your legs, and rubs over your opening a little before you feel him press the tip of his cock there. “Deep breaths for me baby,” he soothes, his eyes watching your face carefully. “Relax, Daddy’s got you, if it hurts we can stop, okay?” You nod and whimper as he starts to drive his hips forward. “Touch your clit for me,” he demands softly. You do as he tells you, rubbing in small circles and finding it helps you relax around him. “There we go, good girl, fuck baby you feel so good,” he groans. 

Your mouth falls open and you’re speechless, lungs on fire as he stops, and when you look down you realise he’s the whole way inside. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, breathlessly. 

“You okay?” he checks. You nod and smile at him. 

“Yeah, Daddy, feels good, fuck me please?” you ask sweetly. Dean bites his bottom lip and just stares at your face for a moment.    
“Fuck, sweetheart, feels better than I imagined,” he groans softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he draws his hips back and then slowly pushes forward again. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp. The feeling of his cock dragging into and out slowly is so much better than fingers. No wonder all those girls he fucks makes so much noise. 

Dean’s thrusts get a little harder and faster, and he watches you carefully the whole time, as your mouth falls slack and you pant and moan beneath him. You land flat on your back on the bed and moan louder when you feel Dean’s thumb press at your clit and rub in small circles. 

“Gonna cum on Daddy’s cock, Princess? Wanna make you feel so good,” he rasps. 

“Fuck, Daddy, yes,” you agree eagerly, feeling him take you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“That’s it baby, wanna watch you fall apart for me, feel you cum on my cock. Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he tells you. Something inside you snaps at his words.  _ Best he’s ever had.  _ You cum hard around him, your mind spinning as he starts to fuck you harder and faster still, but it’s not sore or uncomfortable, it just prolongs your climax and makes you a whimpering mess beneath him. “Jesus, oh shit baby, gonna make Daddy cum,” he gasps. You dig your heels into the mattress and start to rotate your own hips, grinding down onto his cock and watching his face twist in pleasure. “Fuck.” His fingers grip your hips tightly, and then he stills and moans deeply. 

Your mind is still spinning as he slowly slips out of you and pulls the condom off, placing it on the nightstand, before encouraging you to lay down with him, in his arms. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat thudding.

“Thank you, that was perfect,” you sigh happily. Dean kisses your forehead lovingly.

“Do you believe me now, sweetheart? That I want you more than anything?” he checks. You nod softly and sit up, looking down at him and biting your bottom lip gently for a second. 

“Daddy?” you press, unable to look him in the eye. 

“Yeah baby?”

“Please don’t freak out and run away again,” you beg him softly, remembering the other times anything sexual has happened between you. You can’t bear the thought of him closing off from you again - not when you want what just happened to happen again and again and again. 

“Baby girl,” he sighs, sitting up and cupping your face. “I’m done fighting this,” he reassures you, ghosting his thumb over your lip, “and I’ll do anything to prove to you how wanted you are.” 


End file.
